Arrow's Trust
by Rumbling Night Cutter
Summary: At the age of fifteen, Hiccup Haddock was sent on a hunting trip with six other heirs to solidify the Tribes. But the ship never came back. It's been five years, and when Hiccup is found again, he's not the same. He's become someone else. SomeTHING else. Something that can no longer trust. And when he gets home, the first thing he does is shoot down a Night Fury (Inspired by Arrow)
1. Helgrind

My name is Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third.

Great name, I know. Not the worst I've heard, but there are better ones.

But I haven't had to use it in years. Why? Well, dead men don't need names, do they?

I'm not actually, you know, dead. Actually, I'm more alive then I ever was. But I'm not the Hiccup that left Berk. That Hiccup was a Viking wannabe. A child. A boy that wallowed in the misery of a life without a father or friends, who let himself be pushed around and into the mud.

THAT Hiccup had been dead for nearly half a decade.

Five years ago, I left my home. Not by choice though. If it was up to me, I would have stayed with the people who made me miserable most of my life.

I would have kept up my job as Gobber's apprentice, somehow convince my dad to get me into dragon training, and live an existence I could make peace with. I bet your wondering what made that preferable. About, what actually happened, on that island that I would rather be the village idiot than this?

Me and six other heirs were sent on a hunting trip alone to forge good relations with the other tribes, see if we could survive alongside each other. Strengthen the bond between the tribes or something like that.

That was how I ended up aboard the _Haddock's Tale_, my father's boat, with the other six members of the group that would be known to our tribes as the missing Seven Heirs. Hotshot, the Gloryguts tribe, Tantrum of the Uglithugs, Thuggory, heir to the Meatheads, Dagur, soon to be lord of the Berzerkers, Camicazi the skillful Bog Burgurlar, and Heather, heiress of the Lokitongue Tribe.

We were just supposed to go to an island where hunting was plentiful, take a couple of weeks, do some bonding, stuff like that. Nothing harmful, just... Make allies. That was the plan.

Things didn't go as planned. Thor apparently was feeling pissy during our voyage and decided to take it out on us. The Haddock's Tale went under, and all bets on assurances of survival were off.

I don't know what happened to some of the other heirs, others I know all too well. I don't know what would have happened if I stayed. Maybe, like train a dragon or something ridiculous.

Strangers and allies alike came and went. Dragons, humans, enemies, friends, idiots, teachers, brothers, hated ones. I almost made it off the island a few times, made it to a boat or to a Viking inhabited island.

But each attempt pulled me back in with less hope and less people than before.

Until I was the only one left in the jungle I eventually began to call _Helgrind_- the gates of Hel. The marks of my escapades in Helgrind remained there, a taunting reminder as I was finally left completely alone, apart from the occasional dragon.

But early on in my stay on Helgrind, I realized something. I could no longer afford for my only strength to be in my head. I could no longer try run away from my problems, or my enemies.

If I ever returned to Berk I would not be the same. Because I couldn't stay the same.

The Hiccup watching Astrid from the window, simmering about killing dragons and disappointing his father, and accepting his place as the lowest, he never would have survived what happened all those years. He wouldn't have lived through all the things I had to do, the things I had to see.

The torture done to my mind and body over the years.

Hiccup the Useless drowned with the Haddock's Tale. What did make it off the ship had to claw its way to shore before I became anything that resembled him.

To live, to thrive, and to make my way back home, I couldn't keep being that lost little boy in the shop. I had to adapt to survive or die in the dust. It was no longer a matter of not being the viking everyone wanted me to be. It was now a matter of survival.

To see Berk, I had to become someone else.

I had to become _something_ else.

* * *

><p>I crept through the forest in my usual distrustful manner.<p>

First rule of Helgrind: don't trust anything. Not even the ground. With frequent and inconspicuous quicksand around here, even the solid Midgard under your feet could be a turncoat at any second.

My swords and quiver on my back, I waved through the trees like a wildcat, leaning low in the foliage to avoid being seen by anything incoming. When I woke up this morning, I had seen a viking ship on the shore.

Second rule of Helgrind: never hope the ships are from your home. That hope needed to die, or you would. The first few times had taught me that quick enough. Now, when Insee someone with a working boat, I just see if I can stick enough arrows in the crew to take the boat.

I avoided killing when possible, of course, and honored the dead as much as I could, gave them fair burials. But I was more than ready to get of this eternal torture that called itself an island.

I crept by graves I had made for my comrades, weaves around a tree with a battle scarred masked helmet in it, with one of my arrows sticking though it's eye.

Huh, I could use more ammo. I straightened a bit, looked around for any predators or people, then tugged it out with a yank. The tip was a bit damaged and dull, but it was good as a last resort.

I slipped it into the quiver on my back, between the filthy falcata blades strapped there. Souvenirs of the past. Now my tools to make sure I had a future.

I looked at the helmet on the ground, the one my arrow had been stuck through. It wasn't damaged, the arrow was through the eyehole, and the helm was dinged up a bit. It was all back, with a liftable visor hinge attaching a face piece that would encompass my entire head. It would fit.

I shrugged and dropped it on the ground. The sentamental value had gotten old a long time ago. That battle was back when I first landed on Helgrind.

With a roll of my shoulders to readjust the weight of my weaponry, I pulled up the black hood I had on.

My attire had also changed drastically from when I got to this Helish island. I was wearing as much as I could salvage from my time here. Large green pants, and a black shirt under a layer of chain-mail. I had a small shoulder guard on my right arm and a arm cuff on my right. My falcata swords were strapped parallel to my shoulders so the handles were easily accessible, and my quiver in the middle of my back. I wore a pair of fur boots, replacements from the ones I had upon landing here.

I had grown. I was still thin, but now it was more like a predator. I was built for speed and movement, not deftly mowing down enemies like a battering ram. But I was clever enough to disappear when I needed to, and I could climb and slip through places most Vikings couldn't.

Did I like what I'd become? Honestly, Helgrind had never given me a chance to think about it. I was still alive, so I couldn't really argue with the results, but I certainly never stopped to take a good look in the mirror, that's for sure.

I crept to the final hill where I could get a good look at the shore and readied the bow, hiding just behind a tree so that the arrow I knocked was barely visible. I peered around the side of the trunk so I could take a good look at what I was about to turn into a pincushion.

And when I did, I nearly faltered, but instead, my only response was to widen my eyes in shock. On the ship's sail was Berk's curled up Monstrous Nightmare emblem. That wasn't what convinced me, though. People had tried this trick to draw me out many times. No, what made me nearly drop my bow was the person who swung down from the deck.

She was someone I used to know. Someone I knew five years ago. She had grown, she was taller, more beautiful than ever, but still recognizable. After all, how could I forget my first crush?

I lowered my aim and stared in shock as Astrid Hofferson stood on the beach of Helgrind, looking around like she owned the place, with the entire gang on the ship behind her.


	2. Arrowhead

_I sat in the Haddock's Tale near the back of the boat, hands on my knees and an awkward silence surrounding me and the other heirs as a violent storm raged outside the wooden confines of the boat. I felt like an ant amoung the others, a small, puny being among these giants._

_Dagur sat on one of the rowing benches, his legs crossed. He swayed with the rocking if the boat, but didn't seem to have balence issues. The sound of metal-scraping-metal echoed in the confined space as he sharpened a pair of knives. In the swinging lantern light, he looked kinda scary. Okay, for a puny excuse of a Viking like me, he was a lot scary._

_Hotshot was leaning against the wall in front of the ladder leading above to the deck. He wore a standard set of viking armor with a brown tunic underneath. His well muscled form was obvious, dispite the bulky armor and baggy cloth. His helmet had a pair of Rumblehorn horns sticking out from the sides. He looked like he was trying to take a nap standing up. Why? No idea. A challenge I suppose._

_Camicazi was huddled up in the corner, head against her knees while she snoozed soundly. The little Bog-Burgalur bore a remarkable resemblance to Astrid, except her face was sharper, more elfish. She was also severely shorter; standing only up to my nose. Her hair had little beaded braids framing her face, while the rest of it hung in a tangled mess behind her head. She wore the same attire as Astrid, a faded blue shirt and worn spiked skirt._

_I didn't really trust the reliability of her being genuinely asleep. She might be trying to snatch something from one of us. I mean, she _had_ stolen my knife at dinner, so I wasn't taking any chances._

_Thuggory sat between two of the rowing benches. He wore a dark blue tunic and brown pants, his helmet plopped lazily on his head. A set of baby Monstrous Nightmare horns were attached to it. His brown hair dipped into his eyes in a messy heap. He was a huge mass of viking, and he had a rather small head compared to the rest of him. He was one of the most mature of our group, looking like a hardened man rather than a young adult._

_Tantrum was sitting in the corner, pouting about being trapped in a boat with the rest of us. She wore a red dress and her black hair was elegantly braided. Her makeup was a bit overdone, but she was a beauty queen to be sure. Her prissy, sissy ways, we found, have been her downfall in society if, when she had an axe, she was a Monstrous Nightmare with a toothache, only less nice._

_Heather was laying in one of the hammocks attached to the ceiling, a small, dirty book in her hands. She squinted at it in the lantern light, flipping throughout the ancient pages. It looked a bit like the Book of Dragons I had seen in the Great Hall, but smaller. She was the only one here close to my size, but she had a competency with a sword I could only envy at the time._

_Yup, definitely a weakling among warriors here. Hiccup the Useless here. I looked around the boat mournfully, tapping my fingers against my knees and drumming my left foot in agitation._

_Suddenly lightning cracked and thunder roared outside, lighting up the boat by the gaps in the wood. I flinched at the sudden noise, as did most of the others, the exceptions being Dagur and Cami, who was asleep._

_"That storm sounds close," Thuggory said. "I don't like the sound of it." His voice was level and serious. The meatheads spoke their minds and only their minds. They were a completely literal tribe, metaphors and sarcasm would go over his head._

_"Oh come on," Dagur rolled his eyes. "A little rainwater never hurt anyone."_

_"No," Thuggory grunted. "It's not the water I'm worried about. It's the lightning. And the possibility that this was all made by a Skrill." He turned back to the group as the dragon's name left his mouth. I stiffened at the thought of the deadly purple dragon. I had only seen it once... But that had been during a raid on Berk. The blasted thing nearly had me running off the cliffs while it amused itself by playing cat-and-mouse with me._

_"Do you ever have any positive thoughts," I commented dryly. Unfortunately, my tone was lost on him as he gave me a nod full of innocent intentions, as if I had meant what I asked. Add to the list: Meatheads don't understand rhetorical questions either._

_I shook my head and pinched the bridge of my nose, groaning. "Why would there even be a Skrill in those clouds?" Heather questioned a bit nervously, looking away from her book long enough to glance at the Meathead anxiously._

_"I don't know. But the pressure of the storm is building," he replied, "and it's getting unnaturally close; that lightning. Ether we are the seven unluckiest Vikings in the archipelago, or there is a Skrill out there hunting for us."_

_Dagur rolled his eyes. "Psshh," he scoffed. "If there is a Skrill out there, then the solution is simple." He stabbed his knives into the wood beside him, then laid one hand on his hip and the other on his knee. "We kill it. Cut it up and take it back to our tribes in equal stock. I mean, I get the head, erm," he rubbed his chin, considering something. "I guess Thuggory could get the chest... Hiccup can have the left wing-"_

_"Not to interrupt your...rather morbid outlook," Tantrum snapped. "But as you can see- wooden boat," she gestured around with her hands, "big ocean," she then thrust her head at the wall, indicating the raging body of water outside. "How's your swimming, doofus?"_

_"Probably better than yours," he snapped._

_Oh gods, they were just like Ruff and Tuff. "If you two get in a fistfight, I'm casting you overboard myself," Hotshot muttered. Camicazi snored loudly, and I looked over at her. The Astrid-like Bog-Burglar gave no indication she was awake._

_"She started it," Dagur groused hotly and gripped the handles of his blades, yanking them out of the wood with a single pull. Where the knifes had been lodged practically cracked and burst apart from the force of it, the now splintered wood scattering a bit._

_"I don't care," Hotshot muttered, and I rolled my eyes. Lightning cracked outside again, brighter and louder than before. I flinched away from it. Immediately I grimaced in shame._

_Each of the tribes had a specific attribute they were known for, and Berkians were regarded archipelago-wide for their bravery and being unwavering in the face of violent, painful, bloody ends. They did _not_ get scared by a little lightning during a perfectly justified thunderstorm. They would if lightning repeatedly struck the village, but not during a thunderstorm. Lightning was normal. Vikings didn't fear normal..._

_...Too bad I wasn't a viking. Not really. If I was, I don't even know how different things could have been. "Seriously, guys," Heather said, shutting her book and getting up, her small feet skimming the wooden floor. "Maybe we should try to direct the ship out of the storm instead of waiting it out. Thor sounds pretty angry."_

_"Well I didn't do anything to offend him." I said. I quickly glanced at Thuggory. "You?"_

_He shook his head. "Nuh-uh."_

_"We'll be fine," Hotshot reassured. "There's no Skrill out there, and it's extremely uncommon for lightning to hit a boat... Right?" He glanced at everyone. I shrugged, Heather bit her lip, Tantrum scowled even more, Dagur shook his head as if it say 'Don't look at me. I'm hear to butcher stuff,' Thuggory gave him a blank look and Cami...was still asleep._

_"Well, in any case," the Gloryguts tribe heir said. "It's not like the storm will last much longer. My bet is that Sol will be back in the sky in no time, and Thor will let us get on with our trip in peace, huh?"_

_He spread his hands out with an optimistic smile on his face. Dagur rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Gloryguts," he muttered. "Always thinking they'll make it through without a hitch, don't they. The perfect heroes."_

_Hotshot scowled. "Anything wrong with that, Berserker?!"_

_"Only that I don't like my inferiors being so arrogant." The Berserker prince smirked, and Hotshot straightened, an indignant look passing over his face. He got up, an angry look on his face, and opened his mouth to say something before the wood above and beside them exploded into a thousand pieces of flaming wood._

* * *

><p><strong><span><em>ARROW'S TRUST<em>**

**_CHAPTER 1: ARROWHEAD_**

Present

I stared in shock at the beach below. There they were, my old...acquaintances. I couldn't really call them friends; Snotlout was a bully, Fishlegs always kept me at his rather impressive arm's length, Astrid was my first hopeless crush but she would never give me the time of day, and the Twins...enough said.

For the most part, they looked the same. The Twins hadn't changed all that much. They were taller than they used to be. Tuff wore more animal fur and spikes than he used to, a spiky shoulder guard on his right arm and a helmet with bigger, more flamboyant horns. Fishlegs was more gargantuan than he had been formerly with a layer of yellow fuzz on his chin. Comically, Snot hadn't grown much at all, maybe a foot and a half bigger. He had some hair on his upper lip, but not enough to be called a mustache.

But Astrid... Man, she had changed a lot. She was taller- even taller than Fishlegs now. Her hair was braided over her shoulder rather than adorning her back. Her large fur hood was thrown behind her head and she still had her signature metal shoulder pads. Her arms were now wrapped in fur cloth and her face had matured into a grounder, tougher shape. She was pretty, but she looked formidable too. Not to be taken lightly in a fight.

I cocked my head. Could I trust them? Probably not. I don't know why they were here, if they arrived by accident or design in some plot to kill me. All I did know was that I was getting off of Helgrind _today_.

They probably wouldn't think twice about betraying me. Call me paranoid, but having your friends try to strangle you to death tends to affect your ability to trust...as does them turning on you so hard that you have to put them down for it. Ok, I'm paranoid, but it was why I was still alive. Remember the first rule of this island, after all. Don't trust anything. Not even the ground underneath your feet.

I grimaced and looked at the arrow in my hands. It was custom to my needs, carved expertly in my spare time. I had had so many teachers to make me who I was today. I rolled it between my fingers a few times, and looked at the tree I had retrieved the projectile from, the one that had been sticking through the eye of a mask.

I took one last look behind me, a glance at the gang. Astrid was leaning against the boat, propping herself up lazily with her ax. Snotlout was still in the boat, leaning over the side as if suffering from seasickness (a concept that gave me a little satisfaction). The Twins were rooting through some bushes near the treeline, a little ways away from where I was crouching, while Fishlegs was sitting on a boulder, flipping through a book.

So familiar... Yet so different. The Astrid I used to know would never lean against anything lazily, but now she seemed a lot more laid back. Her eyes and lips formed a confident yet easygoing smile. Beautiful, yes. But I knew a lot of beautiful people. One of them shot me in the leg. It was not the most pleasant feeling in the world.

I wasn't fooled by physical appearance anymore. But, luckily, _they _were. I stumbled back towards the tree and silently fished in the bushes, bringing out the mask and helmet. The faceplate was textured like a skull. It was black on one side, the inky color ending right between the eyes. The other half of the faceplate was dark red.

I pulled back my hood and plopped on the helmet, the metal sliding over my face. The two faced mask I remember so well. It kind of fit the situation. A mask representing two sides of a person

Though there was still a significant bit of him in here, I wasn't Hiccup the Useless anymore. I wasn't the boy watching Astrid in the window.

I wasn't the weakling making inventions that never worked right, I wasn't the fool giving my dad headaches and messes to clean up, I wasn't the screw up who broke Gobber's hands, I wasn't the coward who ran from dragons during the raids, and I certainly was not the kind kid who would never raise his voice unless cornered.

I'd show them who I'd become.

_What_ I'd become.

* * *

><p>I stood on the edge of a cliff overlooking the beach. It was just now nightfall, the horizon still holding bits of pink and orange while the sky was now as black as a Night Fury's pelt, with the stars shining brightly in the sky. I had the helmet and mask on, my hood pulled over my head. I was still thin and lanky, but I had gained muscle mass and height in the past five years. With it on, they would never recognize me. Not until I wanted them to, anyway.<p>

On the ground, the viking gang was busy making camp. Snotlout was on his hands and knees trying to keep a sad looking fire alive, and I rolled my eyes in annoyance. As a kid, he had seemed imposing and dominant. A true viking. Now, after all Helgrind had taught me, he just seemed sad. Fishlegs was chatting with the twins, looking at Ruffnut...seductively? Ooooookkk, that was, um, unexpected to say the least. I didn't know what to make of Fish having an infatuation with Ruffnut.

Hm. Ok, then.

Meanwhile, Astrid was sharpening her ax, dragging the whetstone easily across the iron blade. I had to admit, she had taken excellent care of the weapon. Oh, who was I kidding, it was warrior-status-obsessed Astrid. Of course she made her weapon was well maintained. I always made use my falcata swords were well sharpened and not rusty, and that my bow was in excellent condition, and took great care in making my arrows. Why wouldn't she do something similar for her beloved ax?

I shook my head, and focused. I needed their attention. I didn't know whether or not they were trustworthy, and there was only one way to make sure they were on the up-and-up. If it came to that, I would put the all-mighty fear of the gods in them until they spilled. I reached behind me and took out an arrow, surveying the Vikings as I notched the arrow and drew back the bow, the wood creaking slightly as it bent.

This was it. I was really going to do this. I might go home soon, I might see civilization again for the first time in so long. I had dreamt of my escape from this damnation every dark night since I'd been left here all by my lonesome.

I released a breath and released my hand. The arrow flew from my grasp, the string and wood snapping taught as the projectile separated from it as it charted its course for my former acquaintances.

It hit the fire Snotlout was trying to maintain, sending sparks flying as the suffering little attempt at warmth was finally put out of its misery. He yelped in surprise and the Vikings' heads all swerved together.

"What the-" Fishlegs screamed, before falling backwards, his large arms and teeny-tiny legs flailing. The twins jumped, dumbfound looks on their faces, and Snotlout reached for his hammer. Astrid, meanwhile, didn't flinch from the arrow, or my appearance. She instantly went for her ax, grabbing it and leveling it at me with a glare.

"Who are you?" she demanded fiercely. "This island is supposed to be uninhabited!"

"Did you really believe that?" I replied evenly, or, at least, what I intended to be evenly. Man, my voice didn't even sound like mine anymore. It was hoarse and throaty from years of vocal abuse. I didn't notice it, but talking to someone who was supposed to know what my voice sounded like made me realize how different I sounded.

All the better, I decided.

Astrid looked confused, and her ax wavered. "What?" she tilted her head, and gave me a baffled look. I shook my head and reached back to notch another arrow. This time, when I let if fly, she held her ax in front or her.

The weapon bounded uselessly off the blade, but the force of its movement made Astrid grunt and stumble backwards a little, precious time I used to make three more warning shots at the others. Tuffnut screamed and scrambled back when the one I sent for him landed between his legs, and Snotlout whimpered when I hit his helmet, knocking it off. He cowered in fear and sheepishly edged to retrieve it.

With that, I slung my bow over my shoulders and turned into the forest. I heard Astrid grunt in anger and yell at the others. "Come on, you guys, he's getting away!" I heard her as she tried to climb up the cliff, wasting a lot of energy in the process.

I came to a halt at the tree line and waited as she did so. This was going to be too easy, I thought to myself. I even decided to have the nerve and take out an arrow, pretending to examine it as her dusty hand appeared over the cliff edge.

She pulled herself up with a huff and glared at me angrily when she saw what I was doing. I twirled the arrow between my fingers a few times and smiled wryly even though she couldn't see it.

"Jerk," she grunted and I chuckled.

"Perhaps," I said, putting the weapon back in its quiver. She hauled herself over the edge and rolled onto her feet. She charged for me, swinging her ax. She was calm and poised, but didn't hesitate to let out a violent battle cry as she lunged for me.

I ducked under the strike and smashed my fist into the inside if her elbow. Not enough to cause serious damage, only pain. She cried out and dropped her weapon, and I grabbed her shoulder and shoved her around. This forced her spin so her back was too me. I kicked her in the back, making her stumble forwards.

"Try to keep up...Astrid," I spoke, running for the forest. I vaulted off of a tree, grabbing a branch on the opposing one, swinging a bit to gain distance and conserve energy in my legs at the same time. I could hear her growl in anger as the other teens made their way up to join her.

"You are _so_ dead," she yelled.

Yup, she still had anger issues. Good to know. The leaves crashed and cracked as the Vikings stormed their way through the greenery, Astrid's huffs and puffs at the forefront of them.

I skidded to a halt, catching a few chances to suck in air, before twisting to look behind me. The Vikings were charging after me, crashing through leaves and greenery like bulls. I smirked. No stealth training. Don't suppose that would be in Gobber's playbook. I ran forwards and darted through the trees, while they ran behind me.

I knew this area well. This is where I learned to fight, to shoot while running, where I evolved from Useless to what I was today. I jumped over a tree root that Snotlout failed to spot mere seconds later, and un-slung my bow. I then pulled an arrow from my quiver and continued running with the feathers touching the string, then twisted around and shot at them again. It grazed Astrid's head, and forced Fishlegs to duck, before it thudded into a tree a ways away.

By the time they turned around, I had made it into a tree, crouching behind a mass of leaves. The Vikings looked around for me. Astrid began walking forwards slowly, scanning her sides for me. To bad opponents never look up.

Then again, it would probably counterproductive to my fighting style. Whatever the case, I smirked and stood up gripping the tree trunk to help me balance as I did. "You Vikings," I said, still in that breathy, horse, not-mine voice. "You can never recognize a trap."

As the words left my mouth, I drew the sword on my left shoulder and sliced through a rope I had tied to the tree I was in. With the loss of anything holding it down, the net I had set up under the three- now under the Vikings- snapped upward and wrapped around my unexpected visitors.

* * *

><p><em>Five Years Previously<em>

_I coughed as I clawed my way onto the shores of the island, the place was beautiful, but creepy at the same time, especially with the grayish sky._

_I hacked up seawater, the disgusting stuff dribbling out of my lips and splashing on the sand in front of me. I was soaked to the bone and my clothes stuck to my skin, emphasizing how little I was. The fur of my vest was matted and pressed down, and I was freezing cold._

_"We,"' a feminine, slightly screechy voice called out behind me. "Are_ never_ staying still in a storm," the voice huffed,_ _"_again_!"_

_I twisted around to discover the drenched form of Camicazi trudging her way up though the shallow water. She was in a similar state to me, clothes clinging to her slight frame and hair sticking to her head and back. The difference was that the Bog-Burglar looked ultimately pissed._

_"I mean, who's bright idea was that?!" She yelled flinging he hands around. "Ohhhh, look, a FREAKING LIGHTNING STORM! Let's wait it out in a WOODEN BOAT in the middle of the FREAKING OCEAN!"_

_She stomped up beside me and growled. "And all I get is- ...is you!" she shot a scathing look at me. "Thuggory would have been the best, even if he is a boy, but you! What are you, nine or something."_

_"Fourteen," I grumbled, wiping my bangs out of my eyes and flicking water out of my hands._

_She scoffed and rolled her eyes, muttering, "Liar."_

_I shot an indignant look up at her. "I am NOT that little!" I snapped. My voice was raw from the roughness of the seawater. I was half drowned and tried, my throat hurt and I felt like I had strolled into Jötunnheim in only my nightclothes, so I was understandably short on patience for mockery. "I'm actually taller than you, you little Bog-Witch!"_

_She seized me by the front of the shirt and raised her fist to strike my face. I was to exhausted to resist in any way but yelp and throw up my hands in defense. Before she could punch me, though, a deep voice cried "Companions!"_

_She immediately dropped me and whipped her head towards it's source, and I plopped uselessly in the half-inch deep water. I pushed myself up and looked at my savior._

_A soaked Thuggory was losing his way through the sand. His helmet was gone, and he looked exhausted. The big guy had an unusually ecstatic grin on his face as he made his way over to us. "It is good to see that at least two more of our number survived!"_

_He smiled and grasped our shoulders, hauling me to my feet. Once we were both standing shoulder to shoulder in front of him, he looked between us both. "Are either of you injured," he asked with genuine concern, looking us up and down._

_"Nope," I responded, and Cami shook her head._

_"That is good," Thuggory said. "Very good." He took a second to look around, eyeing the mountains and trees suspiciously. "This island, however, is not good." He turned away from us and started stomping his way towards the tree line._

_I raised and eyebrow, and looked at Cami, who looked just as confused as I was. "Um, Thug," I called, cupping a hand over my mouth. "W-where are you going?"_

_""I do not know," he called back. "But hopefully it is towards food, and shelter from storms." We watched him go, the Meathead eventually vanishing into the greenery. "Should we follow him?" I asked._

_"Nah. If there's savage animals on this island, he'll be the first to know." Her tone was ambiguous as to whether she was serious or not. Knowing Bog-Burglars, she probably didn't care either way._

_"That's a bit cold, isn't it?" I rubbed the back of my head._

_"You want to live, right?" she looked at me condescendingly. I glared at her, and she punched me in the shoulder._

_This was gonna be...fun. I guess. I rubbed what was probably going to turn into a bruise, then looked from her, to the forest, back to her, and then sighed. "We can't just... I mean, he was so happy to see us..."_

_She looked at me like I had just drooled on her shirt._

_"He's our friend," I finished despertately, extracting an eye roll from her mane shook her head and kicked sand on my shoe out of pure spite. "You know what," I said angrily, "Fine. Go on then, if you must, just stay behind and die alone! I'm done trying to convince ignorant people like you that there's another way to go about things other than to mindlessly hit your head against it!"_

_I began jogging for the forest, leaving her before I could catch her reaction, quickly following the heavy prints left behind by the Meathead Prince, ducking under the branches and jumping over roots._

_I soon found him. The big guy had a quivered a thick tree limb and was wielding it like a club, looking around for danger with a worried glare. I walked up to him, trying not to scare the viking that could squish me like a bug._

_It was a fruitless effort, though. When I laid my hand on his shoulder, he whirled around and yelled, raising his makeshift club over his head with a frightening war cry. "RAAAAAAAAGHHHHHH!"_

_"AAHHHHHHHHH!" I screamed and stumbled backwards, raising my hands in front of my face. "Thug, Thug, wait, buddy, it's me!"_

_He stopped, and looked me up and down. "Hiccup?"_

_"Yes," I answered, sighing in relief. I smoothed out my still soaked vest and sighed. "What did you run into? Did something attack you?"_

_He sighed and laid a hand on my shoulder. "Not something. Someone. And they are not very happy that we are on his island."_

_"How do you know?"_

_Before he could answer, a ringing sounded through the air as metal soared towards us. A small _tink!_ echoed out and suddenly there was a falcata sword impaled in the tree behind us. I yelped and jumped away from it in shock, and Thuggory pushed me behind him. "He tried is trying to kill me."_

_I looked at the sword thrower, and grimaced. Crouching on the branch of a tree was a man with a black hood with a terrifying black and red mask._

* * *

><p>Present<p>

I strode around my captives with a bit of amusement. The way they had ended up in my trap was a bit funny, I have to admit. The majority of the space was occupied by Fishlegs, and he was pressing his friends into the side of the net. Ruff and Tuff were on the side opposite to me, while Astrid was squished into the part of the net directly in front of me. As for Snotlout... Erm, he ended up at the bottom of the net. The poor Jorgenson was squashed under the bigger viking.

I had confiscated their weapons and cast them into the jungle, the leaves making the deadly objects disappear beyond hope of retrieving them with ease.

"So," I began calmly, taking an arrow from my quiver. "What are you doing on Helgrind?"

Astrid raised her eyebrow. "What are _you_ doing on an uninhabited island on the border of Berk's territory?" she questioned with equal interrogating ire. I rolled my eyes, even through the motion was almost imperceptible behind the face plate of the helmet.

"I believe that I am actually the one with the pointy things and the freedom to move unencumbered," I said with my vast range of vocabulary, "where you are the ones trapped and unarmed."

This seemed to leave an acidic taste in her mouth as her face was overcome with a sour expression after I said that. It quickly turned back into a scowl as she snarled at me. "We _were_ just on a hunting trip," she spat.

I twirled the arrow between my fingers. Then suddenly lunged, stabbing it into the net. I grazed her right cheek, grazing a little blood, before pulling it back out. She had yelped when I moved, and touched a hand to the cut.

"That's the last time I give you a warning." I snarled. "I'm not a fool. Berk doesn't hunt outside its own forest. Not since the dragons started targeting hunting boats for the meat."

She scoffed. "I hate to burst your bubble, but yes, you are a fool." I looked at her with a deadpan look in my eyes, and idly wiped the blood from the arrow head. The point (and don't you dare comment on the pun) was not lost on her, and she wiped her own cheek. "Berk hasn't been able to hunt in its own territory for years! The dragons have practically moved in!"

"Hmm?" I said stupidly, tilting my head to the side to indicate her to continue. She grunted, and arched her back to push the writhing form of Fishlegs away. "The...ugh, the dragon raids have only gotten worse and worse. They burnt our fields, stole so much livestock that we barely have enough left for breathing, and now they're inhabiting our forests."

"Bermf ish 'arving," Snotlout grunted, his voice muffled by his burden.

"Huh?" I asked, and Tuffnut spoke up.

"He said, 'Berk is starving.'" We all looked at the male Thorsten skeptically. Eventually he noticed, and indignantly scowled. "What? I speak Squished Snotlout."

"Ok," Ruffnut drawled. "First you're inexplicably fluent int Post-Lightning Snotlout, and now Squashed-"

"Squished," he corrected.

"Whatever," she continued. "Squished Snotlout. How many Snot-languages do you know, and where was I when you learned them?" Her twin crossed his arms indignantly and whipped his head away from her.

"I have a life outside of you!" he argued.

"Nah bleh deent," Snotlout tried to say. I had a suspicious feeling the translation would be, 'No you don't'. I sighed and looked at them through the mask. Fishlegs was uncomfortable, Ruff and Tuff were glaring at each other, clenching their fists. Snotlout was being flattened, and Astrid looked like she would appreciate the sight of my head on a spike.

But they weren't lying. I learned a while ago that Fishlegs was a suck-ish liar, as well as to notice the little quirks in people's behavior when they were lying. They all acted like they did when I had trapped them. Indignant and confused, but not needlessly defensive, and their tone was not inflected with anything forced.

"Next question," I said, still hesitant about the whole, 'Berk is Starving' thing, but I still needed to see it for myself. If it meant getting off the island, I would gladly walk into a trap.

Now to ensure that I wouldn't be left here if they discovered my identity. "You have a concept of honor, don't you," I asked-more-like-ordered, looking at Astrid. She nodded, albeit grudgingly. "All I want from you now is a way off this island. I want to accompany you off Helgrind."

Her reaction was not what I expected. I thought she would stubbornly refuse, challenge me to a duel, do something other than what she did.

Her eyes widened. She had clearly not been expecting this, because her grip on the ropes slackened and she stopped pushing at Fishlegs. The Shield Maiden looked at me with a slackened jaw, and blinked. "S-seriously, that's all what want?"

"Yeah," I said, darting my gaze as if to say, 'duh'. "What were you expecting?"

"Well, when a creepy guy traps you in a net and has you at arrow point, or sword point, or whatever," she glanced at the hilts behind my shoulders. "They usually either want something disgusting or are all liked "Raar, get of my island and never return!"

I blinked. The situation had suddenly become very awkward. "Aaaaannyway," I continued, and stuck the arrow back in its quiver. "Do we have a deal, or not? I just want to go home. You'll take me to yours, and I'll handle things from there."

She sighed, then rubbed her eyes. "Look, why did you go about all the trouble of fighting and trapping us if you just want to go home? If you just came up and asked, we would have taken you."

"I have trust issues," was my clipped answer. "I wanted to know if you were after me specifically... And I wanted your word that I would be allowed to accompany you. So, you know, I didn't have to kill you all and take your boat."

Fishlegs gulped, and the twins paled. I couldn't really tell Snotlout's reaction, but the look on Astrid's face was unreadable. I knit my eyebrows. "Do. We. Have. A deal?"

She looked me up and down a few times. "Were you serious? About killing us all."

"As a dragon attack." I growled, and I noticed her cheeks turn just a little bit whiter. She swallowed, and I smirked under the mask. She nodded a few times, looking a little scared. I'll admit, that boosted my ego a bit. The might Astrid Hofferson, intimidated.

_I. Am. An. Idiot._

(Just in case the italics and the staccato of each word wasn't enough to make it clear: I am an idiot.)

I cut the rope holding the Vikings up, and they tumbled downwards in a massive heap, one after the other. Snotlout wheezed, now being crushed under the collective weight if his companions. I had to hold back a satisfied laugh at that, but I managed.

"So, let's go," I motioned with my hand for them to follow, and I made the rookie mistake of turning my back on someone who could stab it easily. As soon as they were out of my field of vision, I heard the scuffling of boots on dirt, then the loud shink as wind of my swords was yanked from its sheath.

I whirled around, to find Astrid holding the blade that was previously secured to my right shoulder, just as she took a swing at me. "WHOA!" I yelled, and backpedaled quickly to avoid the razor edge of my own sword.

Before I could retaliate, she swung again, this time tearing the metal on the black side of my mask, a gash now tearing the cheek. I grabbed her arm that time, and twisted it, making her cry on pain before she kneed me in, erm...you get the idea.

I groaned, clutching the spot, and she took a stab with the stolen falcata. I twisted away from the strike and slammed my fist into her shoulder. She yelped and stumbled, and as took the chance to draw my remaining blade.

Metal hit metal with loud clangs as the edges hit each other. I slashed and she blocked, going for my jaw with her fist. In response, I leaned back, and hooked my leg around hers. With a pull, I tripped her up, and while acting on instinct, I plunged the tip of my sword down.

Astrid rolled, and my blow hit the dirt. She raised her sword to slash, but my left hand darted into my pocket and returned with a small handmade flelchette in my grasp. I flicked my wrist and sent it flying into her left thigh.

She cried out in pain and clutched the wound, before I hit the inside of her right elbow as I did when she attacked me with her ax. She dropped my falcata, and I reached behind me to grab another arrow.

She hissed in pain through her teeth, but yanked out the flechette with a small yelp and threw it at my face. I barely managed to duck before I would have had a third nostril, but before I knew it, she was on her feet again and decked me in the gut. I wheezed as air was dragged out of my lungs. As I was bent, her hand darted out and she grabbed a fistful of my arrows, plunging them at my neck.

"No one threatens my vikings!" she hissed and I ducked under the arrows, rolling to come up behind her. In an instant, I had seized her arm, twisting it into a position where I could snap it like a twig, and placed the edge of my sword against her throat. I hooked one leg around her ankle, so I could trip her up if needed.

"And I just want to go home," I snarled in her ear. "I have been in this Hel for five years. Five years where nothing good happened, and I am more then prepared to kill to leave this place!"

In response, she swing her free fist towards my face. Luckily the mask was made of metal, so when the blow hit, it sounded like a gong had just been abused. The problem was, she dented my mask- and my eardrums.

She yelled and clutched her now bloody fist as I reeled backwards, clenching my palms to my ears. The others had been watching our duel in awe, too dumbstruck to help her. Probably surprised that I could hold my own against her. After all, she was the viking who killed trees with an ax when she was bored. She was one of the best fighters on Berk, period!

And she still was.

"Nice to know...you haven't just been sitting around these past five years, Astrid," I gasped. "You're certainly," I gulped in air, "certainly much better then five years ago."

"How- gah," she winced as cool air met her raw knuckles. She had probably damaged some of the bones in her hand. It's not a good idea to punch armor with all you got. "How do you...ow, how do you know that!?"

"Simple. And now that I know you protect your own, I'm going to take the risk of showing you," I said, and raised my hand. Slowly, I pulled back my hood, letting the black fabric fall over the entrance of my quiver behind me, before reaching up and lifting the helmet.

The metal hit the ground with a loud thunk. The Berk vikings' eyes were like dinner plates, and I rubbed the back of my head, loosing up some of the matted hair that was starting to stick to my neck and the back of my head.

Astrid's jaw dropped. She blinked and shook her head a few times. Color rushed into her face, and I seemingly destroyed her hold on reality, because her arms fell uselessly to her sides, and she stared as if she had just seen a yak take flight. She spoke with a voice that, coming from her of all people, was almost painful to hear.

"H-Hiccup?"


	3. The Five Year Demon In The Sky

I said nothing as Astrid looked me up and down. Her wide blue eyes scanned me as I wiped the blood off the cut on my arm. I shrugged a bit and bent to pick up my swords, then slid the curved bladed back in their sheaths easily.

I pulled up my hood and smiled. "That's more like it. That mask is quite cumbersome." I kicked it the offending metal object, and it spun into the bushes. "The sentiment wore off a while ago." I looked over at Astrid. She and the others all had looks of shock on their faces, as if I was Thor himself. Well, most of them did. Fish just fainted.

"So I guess I was right then," I mumbled. "You Vikings have no faith in anything that isn't the size of a bear and waves around a hammer. Sorry, but no change in me there," I grabbed the bloody flachette on the ground and hastily wiped the unsavory red from its blade. Astrid flinched and put a land to the bleeding thigh wound, and I shook my head.

"H-how are you-" Snoulout began, but I cut him off. "Still alive?" I finished my task and shoved the small weapon back in its pouch. "Wouldn't you like to know, Snot?"

"Yes," he answered stupidly. I shook my head and pressed the tip of my bow to my forehead. Thor give me strength, it'll be a miracle if I don't shoot Snotlout in a non-essential for survival place by the end of the year.

I turned towards the Shield Maiden who I had fought mere moments before. I still took a little satisfaction in her expression

"Nice moves, by the way. I know your inexperienced with a Falcata blade, but you did surprisingly excellent for your first time wielding one," I complimented truthfully with a small smirk. It was true, I was much sloppier my first time wielding the sword... I nearly impaled both myself and Cami.

She blinked a bit, then her face turned a bit red. It might have been a blush... Or it might have been anger. Kinda hard to tell with her, she's always been hard to read. I tugged my sleeves down and readjusted my clothes. "Haven't had a fight like that in a long time. Thought I was getting a bit rusty. Anyway," I said, "I would say its nice to see you all... But then I'd be lying. But it is nice to see a boat that doesn't look like I made it."

I turned and went to walk deeper into the forest. Astrid wasn't far behind me, crashing through the the foliage and clutching her bloodied hand to her side. "W-Wait," she called, stuttering from shock. "Get back here!"

"Didn't work before, why would it now," I yelled back, chucking at the sounds of her crashing footfalls hitting the ground as she stumbled across roots and large rocks. I was being a bit smug, yes... But there was something satisfying about the concept that I, the guy who was once so clumsy he tripped without even taking a step, was walking perfectly while she, the most graceful teen on Berk, was bumbling around like an intoxicated yak over unfamiliar ground.

Overhead, the sky was becoming dark and starry, and my blood ran cold as the last of the sun dipped into the horizon. I bit my lips and readied my bow, my fingers nervously drumming across the string in anticipation. They saw my look of fear and became slightly confused. "Dude," Tuffnut commented. "You just took on the scariest female viking on Berk without hesitating, and your afraid of the dark?"

I rolled my eyes. Stupid Tuff, he couldn't connect the dots in any way, or even try to understand things. Here, night is synonymous with one thing, something I've been fighting for five straight years. My greatest, most bitter enemy.

"I'm not overly fond of what follows," I admitted, and eyed the sky suspiciously. "Come on, you scaly bastard, I know your up there. I know we're not alone, but don't let that stop you. Shall we continue our game?"

The Vikings looked at me like I was insane (and I was, just a little) and edged away from me nervously. Ruff and Tuff looked at each other and shrugged, a Tuff making the standard 'he's lost it,' gesture of twirling his finger by his head. Fish looked a little concerned, Snotlout amused, and Astrid embarassed, as if mortified that she had tied to a guy who's marble count was beginning to be a little low.

"And three..." I looked up at the sky, readying an arrow in my bow. Sure enough, the white dots in the sky blinked in and out of existance occasionally. "Two..." A loud roar suddenly rolled across the land, exciting over the trees. It was punctuated by a shrill, high pitched whine echoing throgh the air, the sound building up over time. The blackness in the sky got bigger and bigger.

"ONE!" I screamed and loosed my arrow. At the same time a burst of blue-purple light emitted from the blackness in the sky. I dove to the side, knocking the others out of the way as the plasma blast obliterated the ground where we had been standing.

The blackness veered away from my arrow and roared as it banked. I could_ feel_ the cool rush of air as it flew in front of me, the downward flap of its wings grazing me.

"Night Fury!" Fishlegs screamed, and the Vikings, even Astrid, threw themselves to the ground, hands over their heads. But instead of the typical, panicked "Get Down!" I said something different.

"Come and get me, you waste of bones and scales," I yelled and drew back the bowstring and shot at the absence of light in the sky. The lack of any reaction from it told me I missed, though, and I cursed, before shooting another and another. They each missed their mark, the black shape in the sky zig-zagging away from each shot.

So long fighting this thing had given me expert skill on tracking it in the sky, and I never lost sight of it for a second. I growled and dashed backwards, toward my camp in the forest. It was the remains of the Haddock's Tale, thrown inland by a hurricane. It wasn't much but a wrecked hull with a bed and a case inside it.

I ran to the case and threw my bow to Astrid. "Here, your acceptable with a bow, take some potshots at it," I said frantically, trying to undo the locks on the thing that kept my backup weapon from me. She caught it and looked like I had just told her to go have a fisticuffs match with Thor.

She fumbled with it, and grabbed at the arrows scattered on the ground of the camp. Above us, the Night Fury was coming back around for another go. She drew back the shot and released it.

The projectile flew out and up at its black target, but missed horrendously. "Yup," I called, "definitely an old fashioned 'lop its head off with an axe,' kind of girl," I yelled critically at her, and she flinched. "Got a problem with that, Fishbone?"

"While fighting a dragon that doesn't land and battle you head to head, yes, yes I do Axe-brain!" I yelled back. Ok, a little rude, but I was panicking. The Night Fury had nearly killed me every night for five years, and I wasn't going to let it end because she was axe-addicted and didn't bother to practice with archery.

I growled, and finally unlocked the case. Inside was a bow of my own make. Fashioned form a metal alloy I had discovered while on the island, it was composed of several movable parts that only served to make it more flexible, thus giving it more power. At each end was a pulley system attaching the strings, starving the same purpose as the unconventional design of the weapon. It was shaped a bit like a recurve bow, but with the modifications I had made, it was far superior to the wooden one I had tossed to my female acquaintance**[1]**.

"Yes," I hissed, and seized the bow. The others, Fish in particular, gaped at it in amazement. I reached back and pulled out one of the 'special' arrows in my quiver. After quickly scraping the tip against the ground, causing a flurry of sparks. One hit a fuse attached to the arrowhead, and fire slowly crawled along its length, I shot it out, the arrow, going farther and faster than any shot I had ever made with the older weapon. The new one a was poorly forged, due to there not being a conventional forge available, but it was still better than the other one. Ether way, I could easily make a better one when I got back to Berk.

Anyway, my shot flew out at the black blur in the night sky, but instead of merely spinning off uselessly, it exploded. The orange starburst erupted mere feet from the Night Fury, knocking the dragon off course. It stumbled in the air, but I saw its silhouette against the trees as it striaghtened itself in the air.

By now, their jaws were practically detached from their skulls as the watched me engage in an all out fire fight with the dragon they feared the most. I let loose fire arrows, coated in Monstrous Nightmare saliva (don't ask how I got it. People are happier not knowing) explosive arrows made from a black powder a visitor to the island had shown me how to make**[2]**.

I exchanged shot after shot while it pummeled with multiple plasma blasts, leaving lots of craters in the jungle landscape. I drew a regular arrow from my quiver and sat behind a rock. The Vikings had taken cover inside my shelter, Astrid still holding my regular use bow.

She was staring at me with enormous blue eyes, even bigger and filled with more shock than when I revealed my identity. I don't blame her. The last time she saw me. I was a twig-thin kid walking miserably into the hull of a ship with twelve other heirs to Viking thrones, completely inept with any kind of weapon and defenseless against anything with more fighting prowess than Phil, Gobber's pet sheep.

Now I was using a bow and arrows no one had ever seen before to battle THE MOST POWERFUL dragon in the book of dragons, attempting to knock it out of the sky and giving it a pretty decent run for its money. "I've been fighting this demon for five years," I called out to her. "Kinda showcases why I'm so anxious to leave, doesn't it?"

I heard the Night Fury's attack shriek and dove away from my hiding place, loosing my arrow mid-roll so that it flew upwards and into the black form of the Night Fury. It wailed in pain as the projectile hit its mark, but kept on flying, the injury not felling the dragon.

I did a silent fist pump of victory as my lucky shot deterred the beast from trying again. I watched its near formless black essence turn and fly away towards the volcano in the distance.

* * *

><p><strong><span><em>Arrow's Trust<em>**

**_Chapter 2:_**

**_The Five-Year Demon in the Sky_**

* * *

><p><strong><em><span>Five Years Ago, The Forests of Helgrind<span>_**

_I trembled in fear as the man in the mask loomed over us a few trees away, his sword still impaled in the bark half an inch to my left as I hid behind Thuggory. The large viking patted me on the head. _

_"Do not worry, my undersized companion," he said. "I will make sure you and. I both make it out of here alive. This man is small and thin, he should not be much of a challenge."_

_I frowned. Meatheads were not the sharpest axes in the armory, and thus, were prone to underestimating an opponent due to size alone. While Thuggory was practically a Rumblehorn in human form, there was something about the masked man that made him feel... Dangerous. While Thug outsized him like a Nightmare does a Gronckle, the unknown party seemed to give off an air of lethality that my friend lacked. _

_"RAAAARGH!" He roared and swung his wooden branch down at the intruder. He barely even showed any sign of alarm, leaning calmly to the side as the makeshift bludgeon arched mast his head. He used his remaining sword to slice a deep cut into Thug's leg. _

_The larger Viking roared in pain, taking another swing at his opponent, before receiving a gash down his back and a kick to the rear. Thuggory's face met the trunk of an opposing tree, and he grunted in anger, gripping the branch in his hands so hard his knuckles turned white. _

_Another thing you don't really want to do: make a Meathead mad. They are like raging bores when their mad: brutal, dangerous, rabid, and a bit smelly. Well, that last bit is all the time, but they almost seem to get smellier when they're mad. I watched as Thug went in for another attack, only for the newcomer to spin, duck under the swing, and smam the hilt of his sword between Thug's eyes with a louche crack. _

_The Meathead Prince groaned in pain, dropping his weapon and weakly clutched at his face. His knees became wobbly and steps uncertain, until he went down head first into the dirt with a thump. _

_"Uh-oh," I whispered as the man's head snapped up towards me. He began striding over, and I looked at the weapon in the tree beside me. I desperately began to try and yank it free, but it was no use. _

_When he finally got to me, I thought. I was done for sure, but he just pushed me aside and pulled his sword out of the bark like it was nothing. I scowled a little at his display of superiority. It was completely unnessisary, I'm obviously as dangerous as a noodle. _

_To my surprise, he tossed the sword at me casually. "Pick it up," he growled. His voice was horse and _extremely_ gravely, as if he had spent a lot of time smoking a pipe. It was inflected with an odd accent I couldn't place. I would have asked if he were joking, if his tone wasn't deadly serious. _

_Trembling, I bend and gripped the sword hilt, and pointed the tip of the blade at him. I'm an instant he struck, slashing down with the falcata. I yelped and raised the borrowed weapon in defense. The strike that followed felt like it had nearly dislocated my arm. _

_I yelled again as he took another few slashes at me. "Your small, weak," he mumbled as he took a stab at my side that I barely managed to parry away. "Afraid. You let your guard down so low it might as well not exist." _

_I rolled my eyes, but my sass was quickly punished by a punch to my inner elbow. Pain exploded in my arm like an angry flood, and I dropped the sword to clutch at the spot. _

_He kicked my in the gut, followed by a slash across the arm and a blow with the side of his hand to the base of my neck. Almost my entire body was in pain now, and I staggered to the side as the hits stopped. Less than a second later, his gloved hands grabbed my head and chin, putting me into a headlock with the threat of snapping my neck. _

_"To say you fight like a girl would be a compliment," he snarled, and let go of my chin. His hand was quickly replaced, though, by the cool edge of a falcata sword pressed harshly into my throat._

* * *

><p><strong><em><span>Present Day<span>_**

I sat near the back of the boat, pressing my back into the wall of the boat. It was Astrid's familys' boat, the Flightmare's Fate. A big ship, but a rather slow one, built for outlasting enemies rather than outrunning them.

That was a problem. This thing would be about as protective as a sheet of paper, should the Night Fury decide to give it another go. Unlikely, I thought as I watched the sun rise from under the horizon, the Night Fury never attacks after the sun rises.

Unlikeyly, though not impossible. It had pulled quite a few fast ones over our time together, he could very well change his sleeping pattern to try an dgst the jump on me. I took out an arrow and began to sharpen it with the small knife I had salvaged from one of the many ships to wreck on the shores of Helgrind.

Astrid noticed me and began to walk in my direction a bit hesitantly. Idly I adjusted the angle of my arrow to point the tip at her. "If you want to talk, you can do it from over there," I growled, and tugged the hem of my hood lower over my face. "I don't like people getting to close."

She blinked, but shook her head. The Sheild Maiden was limping, due to the injury she sustained when we fought, but she still managed to look proud and stubborn as she made her way over to me, her hand fluttering slightly over her wounded thigh.

I rolled my eyes and continued sharpening until her shadow fell over me. At that point I groaned and stuck the knife back in its sheath, then slid the arrow back into the quiver. "What is it," I groaned, and glanced up to see her with hand on her hips and a demanding glare looking down at me. Before I left I would have been wetting my pants at that glare. Now I met it with one of matched contempt.

"I want to know how your still alive," she said simply. "And how in Helheim have you managed to go from an idiotic bumbling oaf to..." She glanced me up and and down, then crossed her arms. "This."

"You just indicated all of me," I snarked, and she narrowed her eyes. "You know what I mean," she snapped. "Before you couldn't lift a hammer, you couldn't swing an axe, you couldn't even throw a bola. Now you exchanging potshots with a Night Fury!" Her face was like a rock, declaring she wasn't going to give any ground until she had her answers.

But I'm paranoid. "Everything up here," I tapped the side of my head with my metal bow, "is need to know. And unfortunatly for you, Axehead," I could practically see the smoke coming out of her ears when I called her that, "You don't need to know. So I suggest you just leave it."

"Not gonna happen," she snapped, and I rolled my eyes. I leaned to look behind her to see Snotlout standing there with a face like he had just been offended.

"Anything you want to say, Snot," I yelled and looked at him cooly. Astrid twisted to see the young Jorgenson behind her and took a step backwards to get out of his way as he approached me.

"Yeah," he said. "Where have you been for the past five years, huh?" He said arrogantly. "Come to think of it, where are the other heirs, and how are you the last one standing?! You were weaker than Tantrum when the Haddock's Tale left the dock, you should have been the first to die-"

I flinched and closed my eyes. The immage of the boat sinking flashed behind my eyes. The crashing waves , the broken boat, struggling desperately to cling to what little remained of the mast, the sail cocooned around me to try and conserve warmth. A limp, feminine body floated face down a ways away in the water. It was taller that Cami or Heather, so thee was only one other female heir.

I looked up, and saw something in the sky, a black shape with enormous wings. It banked in the sky and began to dive towards me, a pricing shriek filling the storm filled air. I began to paddle frantically with my hand as the dragon got closer, closer, closer-

I forced my eyes to open and I was back in the present, Snotlout and Astrid looking down at me scepticaly. In an instant I was on my feet and gripping my unique weapon so hard it would have snapped it it was made of wood. "I told you, you don't need to know, and you won't know. All you need to know is that I got on the boat with the others. There was a storm, and I ended up on that island. Then I learned the skills, throgh ways you also don't need to know, that I needed to fight that black monster! And that is all either of you are getting!"

The seemed startled by my sudden intensity, but I didn't care. I pushed passed them, bumping the both with a shoulder as a sign of subtle agression. I shot the Twins a look of warning before slinging the metal bow across my chest to free my hands, and took a running start at the mast, pushing up with my foot to help climb it. I alternated between stepping and pulling myself up with the sail until I reached the top.

Once at the top, I settled, crossing my legs and balending on the thin but tall log of wood. "At least they can't bother me up here," I thought to myself. "Though if the Night Fury attacks... Or if it rains," I looked at the rising sun in the distance. "I'll be the first to know."

I glanced down at the occupants of the Flightmare's Fate. Astrid looked troubled, leaning on her axe and biting her lip in agitation. Snotlout was miffed. He crossed his arms and flared up at my new perch, before looking away amd muttering bitterly. Fishlegs looked uneasy as he shifted on his seat of a little wooden crate. The only ones who seemed to not be bothered by the situation was the twins. They were looking up at me as if I was a god from Asgard... Or a puppy that had done tricks. The hold relitivly same weight in the eyes of the Thorsten Psychopath Duo.

I rolled my eyes and laid my metal bow across my lap, before taking out one of my explosive arrows. I pinched the tip with my index finger and thumb. The black powder rubbed onto my fingers and stained them with if sufuric smell. I took a large supply of sulfur with me, but once on perk I's have to use these arrows sparingly until I found another source of sulfur.

With a flick, I dismissed the powder distainfuly. It was gonna be a long, long voyage home with these incompetent bozos, if I didn't kill one of them first. Took a glance backwards at the island that had been my prison for so long, my transformation, my damnation, my home, my escape, my punishment, my origin, my Helheim.

I was finally leaving it forever. I was never gonna have to come back here. I let myself smile at the thought of never seeing that place again, never having to hunt the odd birds with the chicken-like bodies, long necks, and enormous beaks**[3]**. I haunched back over, but the smile was still plastered on my face. I was leaving Helgrind, and never coming back.

But my mood was spoiled by my next thought: what would follow me out of there? So many things had occurred in the past five years, things that hadn't necessarily been resolved and that I didn't want to face again. So again, what from that damned island might follow me back to Berk?

I remained on my perch, contented to stay there until we hit Berk. Until I got home. And after a few days, that little island was finally in my line of sight. I was on top of the mast again as the little land mass came into view, Gothi's house sitting proudly on top of the mountain, the village sprawling below. It was a little bigger than I remember it, but I was immediately worried when I saw that the crop fields were completely bare.

I frowned and pulled my hood low over my face. I didn't know how the village would react to seeing the Useless aboard an approaching ship. They might be angry, might try to stop me once we made port. Not that they could, but I would rather avoid the confrontation.

As soon as the Flightmare's Fate made contact with the docks, the largest of them walked up. He was huge... Though not as huge as my memory of him. He was a big viking, but he no longer seemed like the unstoppable behemoth I looked up to when I left. His enormous orange beard, which dwarfed his entire head, was now half white, though his dark green eyes were as clear and proud as ever. His helmet, which inexplicably stayed on his head no matter what, was dented and battle scared, the left horn snapped at the bend.

I tilted my head and crouched over the edge of the mast, hands on my knees. My metal bow was slung over my chest, not at the ready, but definitely available if it became needed.

"Astrid," Stoick said, greeting the Shield Maiden with a viking-sized comradely hug. She grunted in protest, but was helpless to the chief's greeting. "I'm glad to see your back safe... Though with an interesting newcomer," He glanced up at me, and I reflexively twitched, just stopping myself from having my own father at arrow point.

"Yes sir," she agreed, swallowing. She folded her hands behind her back and looked up at me nervously, then looking back to her leader with unsure eyes. "Very... Very interesting."

"Did you find anything of interest on the surrounding islands," he asked, tilting his head. Astrid looked at her boots, unsure how to answer. She shifted a bit, moving her weight from foot to foot. The motion caused Stoick to notice the red-stained bandage wrapped around her thigh.

"Lass?" He questioned. "What happened?" Her eyes flicked up at me for half a second, but it was all the indication that he needed. He looked up at me and smashed a fist into his palm with an angry growl.

Wow, he never defended me like that. Any happiness I had to see my parental figure was draining by the minuet. Seeing him act more like a father to my complete and utter opposite than he ever, ever had to me left me thoroughly disenchanted with any thoughts of a happy reunion between us. "You!" He roared, but after hearing the Night Fury screech at me every night, it wasn't so scary anymore. "Get down here NOW!"

I stood up and gave a mock salute, bowing as Slade had taught me too five years ago, bending my waist with my arms straight at my sides with such exaggeration I was practically sarcasm in physical form. The action was one of severe mockery for his authority. His face turned beet red with anger.

I jumped off from my place at the mast. I wondered how I must have looked to them, armed to the teeth and wearing outlandish clothes, managing to have wounded one of their best warriors. Certainly not what they expected for their village fool.

I rolled my neck and looked at Stoick. The hood kept my face well shaded, but wouldn't stand up to scrutiny. Luckily, the Viking Chief was too angry for scrutiny. "Explain yourself," he snarled in a deadly calm voice. "Explain why you show up like a specter on my heir's ship-" I flinched inwardly. He had replaced me as heir...? That sent a bit of a shock through me. I had at least thought that he would... He would try and hope I was still alive, that I would come back to him.

All these years I had been strong so that I would once day return home, show him who and what. I'd become. I wasn't the conventional warrior, but I could cross swords with the best of them.

But he had just replaced me with Astrid.

...

Fine then, Astrid could have the job. I wasn't gonna be stuck waiting on whiny villagers all day anyway. I would NEVER be like that. As far as I was concerned, he had_ failed _our family by giving up on me.

"-With her wounded, apparently by you," he finished. To anyone without my experience, the look he was giving me right now would have made many grown Vikings wither and cry for mommy.

Not me though.

Not anymore.

I sneered up at the large chief. "Didn't know you were such a disloyal father," I rasped in the not-mine voice, and his eyes widened.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," I said slowly and clearly, as if speaking to a child. "That you had a child of your own, that he did every thing in is power to please you, to make you proud and each time he failed you scolded him as if he were the Twins, as if he were _trying _to wreak havoc. And five years ago he banished, and you couldn't be bothered to find him, and just replaced him with the Trophy Viking... Vikingete."

If he was angry before, he was enraged now. His face had turned a slight purplish color our of fury and he periodically clenched and unclench end his fists as if he wanted it strangle me but couldn't bring himself too. "And what could you possibly know about. Hiccup," he snarled, and I rolled my eyes.

"I might as well know all about him, considering I AM him," I snarled, and pulled back my hood. The surrounding villagers had a similar reaction to the Viking Young Adults, a large collective gasp and various states of consciousness, a few taking a step or two back while others simply fainted from shock.

Stoick himself was priceless. His eyes widened to bigger than I had ever seen them, his bushy eyebrows making an escape attempt. The purplish color gave way to snow white. He stumbled backwards a bit, as if he had seen a _Dragur_**[4]**, which I guess he had. I looked up, eye to eye with my father for the first time in five years. I was almost as tall as him now. I looked at him with a cool, steady gaze and narrow eyes. "So tell me, Dad," I spat.

"Miss me?"

* * *

><p><strong><em><span>Five Years Ago<span>_**

_I swallowed hard as the edge of the blade was pressed into my throat. The attacker's deep, heavy breaths echoed inside his mask. I twisted to look into the black eyeholes of the red and black mask. _

_I waited for death, screwing my eyes shut. I screwed my eyes shut, waiting for pain in my throat then for Helheim. I had done nothing worthy of Valhalla in my life, I was going to suffer eternity in a pit of damnation-_

_Instead of the queen of the dead, I met with a face full of dirt as the sword was retracted and he shoved my head downwards. _

_I was frozen for a moment in shock. I-I was alive? I was alive. I was alive! I WAS ALIVE! I laughed a moment in relief, before the attacker's heavy boot landed on the center of my spine and pinned me. _

_Oh, maybe he just wanted to kill me in a more amusing way. Instead, the figure slid both swords easily back into the sheathes, the sound of metal on casing rasping as it slid in. "Your not cut out for survival kid," he said with his odd accent. "And neither is he." He kicked Thuggory's unconscious form and shrugged. _

_"But your stuck here like me, ain't ya?" _

_I nodded frantically and he took his boot off of my spine. I scrambled back up, trying to gain as much distance between me and this... This beast of a man as possible. "What's your name, kid?" The man asked, and I swallowed. _

_"H-Hiccup. Hiccup Haddock." _

_To my surprise, he actually laughed at this. Not a cruel, mocking laugh, more like one that someone would give after hearing a joke they didn't realize they were being told. "Ha, now that's a unique name. Never heard it applied to a man before. Undersized sheep and yaks, yes. But not anyone with two legs and a brain."_

_"Thank you for summing that up," I muttered under my breath. The man shook his head and pulled back his hood. Then, he lifted off his odd helmet, revealing tannish skin and course black hair, along with a thick black beard on his cheeks and chin. His face was worn and weathered, showing off a lot of hard years. _

_"Sorry for roughing you and your friend up, there," he said, placing the helmet-mask on the ground. "I had to make sure you weren't here intentionally to attack me. And now I know." He raised a skeptical eye at me. "My enemies wouldn't send anyone with that much incompetence."_

_I scowled, but he offered a gloved hand for a shake. "Well, Hiccup Haddock, my name's Slade Wilson."_

* * *

><p><strong><em><span>Present Day<span>_**

I sat on the roof of my... Stoick's home, not quite understanding myself at present. I always thought that getting back here would finally let me be at peace, or something... But I still felt as caged and alone as I ever did on Helgrind.

Dad had tried to say something after I asked if he missed me at all, but I did t have the patience to listen to it. He had tossed me aside like a spare hammer and I was done trying to please him. Like I said, I never meant to destroy anything but I received no support from him, or anyone else for that matter.

The sun was setting in the distance as I adjusted my new metal bow. It was in better working contortions than the one I made on the island, making it stronger and more reliable.

I adjusted the the pulleys at each end a bit, getting it closer to my habits and preferences. I plucked the string a bit, making it sound a bit like a musical instrument and smiled.

Finding the right material, forging and crafting this thing was one of the very few things that kept me sane during my period of isolation, the reason why I'm not a compleat blithering savage with a spear. I settled my new work on my lap and nodded satisfied.

Without warning, a roar filled the half red-half black sky as the sun had its final second for a few hours. I looked up and saw the approaching form of a Monstrous Nightmare in the sky. It was soon followed by a cluster of other dragons.

I bolted straight up to my feet and pulled up my hood. I still didn't change out of the clothes I had worn on Helgrind, and I doubted that the hood was ever going away (at least I had an excuse for the hood. This place was freaking freezing!)

I snarled and roared out to the villagers below. No matter if this was still my home or not, which I still couldn't decide on, a dragon attack was a dragon attack, and where there were dragon attacks, the Night Fury never failed to show up.

"DRAGONS!" I yelled, and the villagers looked up in time to see me loose the arrow. I had knocked. It stared through the calm night air, towards the flapping beast in the sit acne, before sinking deep into the lead Nightmare's shoulder.

The thing roared and shock and pain, plummeting toward the ground, and then all Hel broke loose. The dragons began to dive in, rushing us from all angles. A purple Nadder flew at me, letting loose its magnesium flame.

I leaped to the hose nearest to Stoick's and the dragon tried to follow. However, I spun and used the thick edge of my new bow to smack it across the nose. It screeched and flapped backwards in pain, and before the thing could recover, I whipped out a flechette and tossed it into the monster's leg.

It screeched before I let loose an exploding arrow in its face. The thing was tossed backwards and fell into the streets below. I nodded in satisfaction and scanned the sky pies above where the stars were slowly appearing.

I climbed onto the dragon head of the dwelling I was currently on and peered at the reptile infested sky. "Come on, Blackie," I murmured, fingering another flaming arrow and the stone I used to light them with. "I know your up there."

Sure enough, the all to familiar _skrrreeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEE BOOM!_ Of my nemesis's presence filled the night air and I grit my teeth. "I knew you would be the first thing to follow me back," I whispered and looked at the starburst of blue and purple that was formerly the Vikings' catapults.

"Ok, you," I whispered. "This ends tonight!" I jumped off the roof, bow ready in hand with an arrow already at the ready. Villagers ran around me, battling dragons, but there was only one I had in kind right now.

I ducked under a Nightmare's snapping jaw and slammed it with my bow. The thing flinched, and was soon distracted by Bob the Sled. The trouble only continued from there, though, and I kept ducking and jumping over dragon strikes that were soon taken care of by various villagers.

_SkrrrreeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE BOOM! _Another catapult blown to Helheim. I skinned the sky, and it's damned blur shot past the illuminated wrath age, fast as lighting. But I was right, tonight this would end, one way or the other!

I slid to avoid a Gronckle that tried to chomp me, heading past Gobber's forge. I allowed myself a little nostalgic smile at the memory of the place. I certainly never would have pictured this five years ago, I thought as I got to my feet and snatched a red sheild away from the smith with 2/4 limbs. "Sorry Gob, need this," I called, catching his slack jawed expression when he saw who had taken the shield.

I realized the defensive equipment over my head, using the same arm that I held the arrow with. Just in time, too, as a Nadder's fire slammed into it an instant later. I scowled at the now flaming shield, before tossing it away.

It spun like a flaming disk through the air and knocked out a red Nadder trying to claw its way into the food supplies. The spike reptile went limp after the shield went _konk_ against its head.

A mass of Vikings quickly swarmed it, but I didn't stay to watch its fate as the Night Fury zoomed by overhead. I saw its black blur against the sky and scowled. "Come on, Fury, you too much of a salamander to face me? So much for the unholy offspring of lighting and death itself!"

There was a shrill roar overhead in response, but the blackness in the sky did not change corse, heading for the Vikings' last catapult. I followed it there, and dove over the hill, rolling and coming up searching for the dragon that I had played cat-and-mouse with for five years.

"Come on," I whispered, slowly reaching back, and grabbed two arrows from my quiver, an explosive arrow, and a regular one. "Gimme somethin' to shoot at, gimme somethin' to shoot at. I dropped the regular arrow on the ground and readied the special one, holding the lighter rock near the ground for split second use.

It seemed like forever before:

_SkreeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE BOOM! _The catapult erupted from the force of a plasma blast, and for a split second, the fastest dragon alive was visible against the flames, a dark arrow jetting across the sky.

Reacting as fast as I could, I lit the fuse and fired at the point where the Night Fury would most likely go. A few second later the dragon became visible once again, but this time because of the explosion from my arrow knocking it off corse. The thing roared in surprise and staggered through the air. In an instant the other arrow was fired, and the squelch that sounded as it entered the black dragon's flesh was audible even down here.

It roared in agony and began to plummet to the far side of the island, losing all control of its flight capabilities. It was out of sight soon, but I was too busy wallowing in satisfaction to care. The demon that had hunted me for five years, I had finally brought it crashing down to Midguard.

I smirked and got up. I wasn't even sad about the lost arrow. I would recover it later when I went to get the Night Fury's body.

**Footnotes:**

**[1] What Hiccup has is called a Compound Bow. I am fully aware of when it was developed, but if he can make things like Toothless's tail rig and the sheild, he can make a compound bow. As for the material... Let's just say he discovered aluminum ore on the island. **

**[2]The explosive arrow is a rock arrowhead coated and filled with an early form of gunpowder. The story is set in the tenth century, and the Chinese discovered it in the ninth. As for how Slade knew how to make gunpowder... You'll see**

**[3] just for kicks, I made Hiccup eat Dodo birds. :)**

**[4] A Dragur is a viking equivalent of a zombie or ghost**

**-RNC**


	4. Checkmate

**Author's Note: quick interjection, I know that Hiccup is 100% OOC here. He's supposed to be like that. He just spent five years in Hel on Midguard. He's not gonna be the same sarcastic kid he was back then. Don't worry, though, as the story progresses and he starts to heal, the Hiccup we all know and love will resurface. **

_"My name is Hicccup Haddock. For five years, I've been stranded on an island from Hel herself. I have become a warrior, but the people of my tribe still see me as weak. Pathetic. A Fishbone. To prove them wrong, and be free of both Helgrind and Berk, I must do something no one has ever done before. I must kill a Night Fury. _

I was in my house after the battle. And I was beyond mad.

After the Night Fury fell, Stoick had caught me and pulled me aside. "What do you think your doing, Hiccup," he had yelled at me in front of the entire village as the dragons departed. "Your outside in a dragon raid, that's what!" He didn't even let me answer his question. Then again, the man always liked the sound of his own booming voice anyway, didn't he?

I had scowled, head straight and not looking at him yet. "I was taking down the Night Fury," I said simply, showing off no emotion in a deadpan statement. There were a few snickers around the village, namely Snotlout.

Without looking, I drew an arrow, nocked it, tunrned and fired, repeating the action quickly. The projectiles peirced Snotlout's fur coar and pinned him to the wall of the house behind him by his shoulders. His eyes bugged and I rolled mine in exasperation. Seriously, this guy had seen be battle this thing in ground-to-air combat. The villagers weren't there, what was his excuse?

But Stoick was still not convinced. "This isn't the time for one of your jokes, Hiccup," he warned. "Your gone for five years, and now you show you haven't changed a bit. Your still running blindly into situations you can't handle!"

I had froze. He... Still thought I was a weakling. Slowly, I looked up, and he had seemed to stagger backwards a bit, seeing how different the eager-to-please boy and the man in the hood before him were. I had clenched my fists and said slowly, in a voice even lower than what mine had degraded into. "I'm sorry, Stoick," he flinched at my use of his name, istead of the term 'Dad'. "You seem to be a little confused. You think I'm Hiccup the Useless. Well, you can stop calling me that. My name is Hēi Jiàn**[1]**. And news flash, I'm not incompetent."

I had turned to look at everyone present. "I'm sure you see me as some little burden you still need to shove inside when the dragons come, but I'm not. There were _five years_, where_ nothing _good happened, do you understand that? _Nothing_! And it was either learn to survive, or die! So you can stop telling me what I can and can't handle, because I know my own limits. I know who my friends are," if possible, my scowl had deepened. "And I know who I can't trust. At the top of the list is a father who replaced me as soon as I was out of the picture. I bet you had a party to celebrate!"

I had turned on my heel and quickly made my way back to my new home that I had acquired after coming back.

The place was one of the oldest in Berk, but it served me well as I had no wish to continue living with my poor excuse for a father. The house only had one room, but that was all I required.

Around me was a personal armory of arrows, the wooden and inferior metal bows hanging above the doorway as reserve use. I had moved in a week ago, and since then, I had utilized the resources that Berk had to offer, making myself a new set of leather armor, as well as a new arsenal of arrows to go with my new bow.

And now it was time to put all these to work. Only an hour and a half before, I had knocked my nemesis, the deadly Night Fury out of the sky. After I bring back its head, I won't have any ghosts left here. Form there, my future is undecided.

I dressed in the new attire I designed for Berk's more arctic climate, rather than the heated one of Helgrind. It was a black overcoat closed shut by a belt and pants, the bandolier a friend on the island gave me attaching my quiver to my back. Studded, thick leather armor covered the left side of my chest, where my heart was, and my left forearm. A mask covered the lower part of my face, and with the hood, only my eyes were left visible. I wore thick boots, and straps attached my swords to my shoulders, both of which now were positions so the hilts were at my left shoulder, the quiver at my right. The suit was overall warmer, and more protective, and allowed for a good amount of mobility**[2]**.

I would need every advantage I could get to beat the Night Fury. I picked up my bow from the table and pulled up the mask. That was much better than that ridiculous thing aI had attacked Astrid and the group with on the island. How did Slade ever stand that thing?

With a deep breath, I slung the bow across my chest. "Come on Night Fury," I rasped. My voice, it wasn't mine, but it was the new me's. The one born on Helgrind. "I think its time we ended our game once and for all. We've spent five years playing this, and I'm calling checkmate."

* * *

><p><strong><em><span>Arrow's Trust<span>_**

**_Chapter 3:_**

**_Checkmate_**

* * *

><p><strong><em><span>Five Years Ago<span>_**

_I laid Thuggory down against a rock in Slade's camp. The place was a mess of former fire pits and a pair of sleeping cots. Broken arrows and arrow parts were scattered about, and I sighed as I was relived of the big guy's weight. _

_I huffed from exhaustion and put my hands on my knees, shaking my head and gulping down air. My throat and my lungs burned from the residual effect of lugging a viking _three times my size_ through _miles of jungle_!_

_I gave Slade a withering, albeit exhausted glare, but the older man took no notice. He sat down on a rock and sighed. He drew one of his swords and slipped his hand into one of the bags beside him, coming out with a whetstone._

_He began dragging the rock along the blade, making a series of scraping sounds over and over as he moved. I laid on one of the cots, and put my hands behind my head, coughing. "You know," I wheezed. "You could have... You could have helped at any time you know."_

_He looked at me and raised an eyebrow. "I'm not here to baby you kid. If you want to stay around here, you gotta pull your own weight, and, apparently, his," he gestured towards the still slumped Thuggory against the rock. _

_I kept up my glare at him, but rolled on my side as I felt like I was about to throw up. The only sound was Slade sharpening his sword and bugs in the jungle. I picked up one of the arrows and examined it. _

_"These yours?" I asked, rolling the shaft between my fingers. "I mean, I'm not one to judge, but I don't really see you as a bows and arrows sort of guy. Maybe... Maybe a crossbow, or something, if you needed to do ranged attacks, but a bow...?"_

_"Do you always talk this much," he growled._

_"Nah, not really. I'm usually... More quiet. I think being shipwrecked and stuff kinda broke me. In here, I mean," I tapped the side of my head. "Not physically. No broken bones here, I'm all good-"_

_"Dear gods, boy, shut up," he snarled, and I immediately shut my gob. Believe me, if you heard Slade's angry voice, you'd shut up pretty fast too. He was like a Monstrous Nightmare in human form!_

_"We have to wait for my partner, Yao Fei, to get back,' he said, going back to the sword. "Then we can patch up your friend if you check out in his books." I didn't like the sound of that. Slade's test had been beefing the stuffing out of me and Thug. What would this 'Yao Fei' do?_

_I let my arms drop, and they flopped in the dirt on either side of me. "Actually, there's one more person from the shipwreck that might have survived. She's uh," I pushed myself into a sitting position and folded my arms on my knees. "A little smaller than me... Blond... A little annoying. Her name's Camicazi. A Bog-Bugler. She'll steal anything that isn't nailed down. Actually," I tilted my head in thought. "She'd steal that stuff too. And the nails. _

_He chuckled, and shook his head. "First Bigfoot, than an imp. You keep some strange company, kid."_

_"A who and a what now," I asked, scratching my head and he waved me away dismissively. "It's nothing important. But still, we're not moving until Yao Fei gives you the once over. The guy might be a few arrows short a quiver, but he's smart, and he knows when he's being played." _

_I nodded, and laid back down, shifting to get myself comfortable. Before I sould, though, I heard a rustling in the bushes, and bolted straight up. I wouldn't be able to do much if we were attacked, but I'd still want a fighting chance. _

_Slade bolted upright, drawing both his swords and holding them in front if himself defensively. I picked up one of the arrows, deciding anything pointy would be useful. However, that was proved wrong when no less than nine Roman Soldiers burst out of the foliage, _Gladuises_ drawn and clad in armor. _

_I sighed and dropped the arrow. "This is just not my day, is it?"_

* * *

><p><strong><em><span>Present Day<span>_**

I stormed out if my new house, clad in the new suit and ready to take on the Night Fury. It wasn't long before I heard someone charging up behind me though. I whirled, a fist clenched, only to spot a familiar head if blond hair topping an even more familiar deadpan expression.

"Astrid?" I scowled, though the only thing she could see with the mask was my eyebrows furrowing unhappily. She didn't look amused, though, and merely looked me up and down.

"What the heck are you wearing?" She crossed her arms, and I sighed, pulling the mask down. "It's a combat suit, made for Berk's climate and-oh never mind," I shook my head and pushed past her.

She grabbed my arm though, and tried to pull me back. "Seriously, you look ridiculous, like your some mainland wimp who strikes from the shadows." I choked on air and rubbed the back of my air-well, the back of my hood.

"Well, I, um..." Damn it, I know several forms of Yao Fei's fighting styles and can shoot down a Night Fury on a night without a moon. How am I _still_ awkward around her?! I groaned and looked down at the chest-high viking, who smirked up at me. "It's actually based on their suits."

She shook her head and sighed. "Only you, Hiccup. Only you." As ticked as I was About being delayed my chance to kill my nemesis once and for all, I was taken aback by the comment. I crossed my arms and gave her a look that could only be rivaled by Stoick.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Looked up, and to my surprise, she was actually grinning. "Only you would make... This," she gestured in my general direction. "Um, that was... Basically all of me," I deadpanned.

"I really meant the suit and the bow," she said. "The only thing that's been new around her is the houses after a raid. It's basically the same place you left. Same food, same people, same chief-"

I rolled my eyes and snorted at that one, before pulling the mask back up and resuming the walk towards the forest. She didn't seem to notice I was moving on, and I didn't care, until she caught up with me and grabbed my arm. "Hey! That's rude," she growled, gripping my wrist.

I wrenched it out of her hand and turned to glare. "What?!"

She was not impressed by my stink-eye, and matched it with her own. "Where are you going anyway? You look like your going off to assassinate someone!"

"Assassinate, no, kill, yes. Someone, no, some_thing_, yes," I answerd simply. As I passed through the tree-made border that seperated village and forest, I took out my bow, touching an arrow to the string. Astrid kept behind me, as persisstant as a Terror.

"I thought you were a pasifist."

"Do I _look_ like an pacifist to you? Wait, better question, was I _acting_ like one on Helgrind?" I could almost feel her heated look, almost as clearly as the way she was walking showed off the slight limp she was sporting due to the flachette I put in her. It would heal in a few more days, but right now it sounded like it was giving her enough pain that she didn't want to put much weight on it.

"... No," she grumbled, and I chuckled, shaking my head. "But before, you were more of a craftsman than a warrior. That wasn't nessissarily bad-"

"I still am a craftsman. How do you think I made these," I retorted. "I spent most of my isolation designing the now, it's one of the things that kept me sane amoung the Night Fury attacks and trying to survive. I've spent the past week making an improved version and the suit. So I'm still a craftsman." I paused. I'm just a craftsman who can shoot a man in the eye from a hundred yards away," I finished in a matter-of-fact voice.

She didn't seem satisfied and kept pestering me. Dear gods, I'd think she's want as little to do with me, considering I had critically wounded her pride and all. But here she was, pestering me.

"But _why_ would you make those things?" She asked. "I mean, you must have some kind of purpose behind it."

"Yeah. Kill the Night Fury," I grumbled as we started getting into a colder part of Berk. I pulled the mask back up, and my eyes began darting around, looking for black scales and blue light.

She was silent behind me. I guess she had reason to believe me after I fought the thing right in front of her on Helgrind. I smirked and let my eyes dart back to her for a bit. Her lips were pressed into a thin line and her face almost... Worried.

I mentally shrugged and kept on searching. "You don't have to follow me, you know," I deadpanned, and I heard her hesitate. Oh, great. She had bad news. This was gonna be just _perfect_ (note, the sarcasm).

I sighed and turned back to her. "Ok, fine, just hit me with it. I can take it. What's the bad news?"

"Your dad..." She chewed her lip. "Kinda asked me to keep an eye on you after you stormed off last week. He also wanted me to try and convince you to talk to him, since you didn't let him get a word in."

"You do know that's not gonna work, right?" I asked her and she nodded. "Your pretty angry at him for making me heir."

"And I'm not gonna talk about it with you," I snapped. I didn't want to speak about that, or think about that. When the Night Fury was dead, I was getting off this island. It was clear I had no further place on Berk anymore.

"Come on, Hiccup," for a second she sounded almost sincere, like she actually wanted me to stay, but that was unlikely. They hated me growing up, and they'll likely hate me now. Or fear what I've become. I fight to survive, though, and I did not spend five years waiting on an island to be betrayed by my so called 'home'. I would make my point and leave. "You know," she growled, sounding fed up, "Ever since I found you on Helgrind you been such a son of a bi-"

She was going to continue her oh-so-kind description of me, but she was silenced as a black blur leapt out of the tall bushes. She yelped in shock, but was knocked aside. Her head crashed into a tree and she slumped on the ground, bleeding and unconscious.

In front of me was the Night Fury. He was large, but not as large as most dragons. His body was long and sleek, with a well-muscled tail ending in a pair of splayed fins. Two huge wings were folded at his sides, and he had a large ovular head with a pair of luminous green eyes. His body was pitted with silvery scars, souvenirs of our past clashes. There was a fresher mark on his side, just in front of his ribcage, most likely made by the one I had stuck him with on Helgrind. There was an arrow sticking out of the joint that connected his left wing to his body, probably making it painful for him to fly or move the limb.

"Night Fury," I growled, momentarily forgetting my companion as the snarling dragon arched it's back and bared its teeth. I nocked my arrow and loosed it, shooting straight at the black dragon.

I hit its leg and it shrieked in pain, before nodding forwards, barreling at me like an angry demon, slit-pupiled eyes narrowed in hate. I began rapidly pulling back and firing as it got closer.

_TWANG_!

_THUNK_! Into his shoulder.

_TWANG_!

_THUNK_! The arrow bounced off his well armored head.

_TWANG_!

_THUNK_!

I shot him in the back the arrowhead stinging into the scales and flesh above his shoulder. The dragon was relentless, though, and kept coming at me, no matter how many shots I fired. As it got closer, I scowled and dropped the bow, reaching back and drawing one of my swords. It jumped to pounce on me, and I moved to stab it in its cold, black heart.

* * *

><p><strong><em><span>Five Years Ago<span>_**

_I grunted in surprise, and Slade bolted upright, drawing his second sword and holding both of__f them of them aloft as he gave the Romans a cool glare with his dark eyes. Thuggory finally stirred (Really? No wonder his tribe is called Meatheads-they do the _worst_ things at the _worst _times), and looked around__. _

_When he saw the bronze-clad men surrounding us, he groaned. "This... Is not going to end well for me is it?" He asked to no one in particular. I nodded, and he groaned, and bowed his head in annoyance as one of the Romans brought the hilt of his sword on top of Thugs head. _

_He had a thick skull, but that didn't prevent a small cut from being ripped on his forehead, and then there was the fact that he was out cold-_again_!_

_I shook my head and looked down at the arrow in my hands, and Slade rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Not worth it kid."_

_I looked at him strangely. Slade didn't seem like the kind of guy to give up so easily, or let himself be outdone by faceless soldier grunts. More like he would crush them into powder and toss them into sea. But here he was, shaking his head and bowing it resignedly at he same time. _

_I muttered gruffly and tossed the arrow away, crossing my arms and scowling as one of the Romans approached me. I looked at him, and to my surprise, he actually flinched back a bit from the look I was shooting him. _

_"Iustus illud facere," I snapped, telling him to get it over with in Latin (Thank you Gothi!) I sighed hopelessly and threw my arms up, letting them fall back down and shook my head. I really could not catch a break today, first the harassment, then the ship sinking, then the friggin Night fury deices its time to play Target Practice: Heir Addition, I get chewed out by a little girl, scared out of my wits, and now these Romans. _

_THE GODS DON'T HATE ME! THEY FRIGGIN _DESPISE_ ME!_

_And before I knew it, my lights were punched hour by the big, beefy Roman. I blacked out and the last thing I felt was my body hitting the dirt. _

_I had a bit of a strange dream after that. First started with some crazy trolls singing about love- something that Gobber said that happened, and since then I couldn't get the immage out of my head when I slept-that once was always disconcerting. _

_The dream after that was stranger, though. I was laying against black scales, roasting a fish over a fire. It was sunset, and at a very pleasant place too. Though the rocks were void of any and all plant life, they gave off an air of natural art as the sun's orange, red, and yellow rays washed over them. _

_I looked at the thing I was laying against. It had bright green eyes and an onyx body, an ovular head, long ears, and enormous wings. I wasn't even scared of it? That's weird. I should be running for my life, screaming in panic-though it's eyes did look rather non threatening at them moment. There was a half eaten fish on the ground, and it gestured at the aquatic meat with its paws if to say 'want some?'_

_Before anything else could happen, I felt a wave of cold in my face. My eyes flew open, and I awoke, gasping and spluttering at the sudden great downpour on my head. The Roman that had knocked me out was smirking. He had a buddy with him who was wearing his helmet visor down. Only his dark brown eyes shone out of the eyeholes, looking at me coldly. _

_I shuddered, then realized I was tied to a stake in the ground. I looked to mu side and round Slade and Thuggory in similar situations. Thug was about ten feet from me, with Slade directly between us. Both of them were tied up too, but for some reason, Lsade wasn't looking like he was fearing for his life. _

_Instead, he looked like he was bored out of his wits, and trust me, the sight of him straining his torso around while having a look on his face that said 'is there anything new gonna happen' was a strange and contradictory sight indeed. Thuggory was away too, but he seemed to be trying much harder than Slade. _

_One of he soldiers walked in front of me, and I looked up. As soon as I saw the person, I jolted in surprise. The man in front of me was not wearing the usual roman attire. He was wearing a right-fitting leather armor filled with pockets for various weapons, and a long, curved sword on his back. The strangest thing about him was that he was wearing a naked helmet, black and red, just like Slade's._

_Slade himself saw the man too and froze, his face morphing from bored out of his wits to blazing with fury. He sunk low, growling like a wild animal someone had just pissed off. "Wintergreen," he snarled, and the man just looked at him, before grabbing me by the shirt. He took out his stood and sliced through the ropes easily, before dragging me away. _

_Slade looked absolutely furious, while Thuggory was still working at his restraints, the Roman with the covered face giving him a blank look, like he couldn't believe he was trying to get out of his bonds with a guard standing two feet away from him and staring him down._

_Wintergreen began to drag me along by the back of my shirt, and I winced as every step made the blood pound in my skull. All around me, the Romans were glaring as I passed, but weather their disgusted looks were focused on me or him I was not sure. _

_Finally we came to a tent with gold designs on the entrance flaps. He pushed me inside, and I stumbled. The tent made the light kind of trippy, so I blinked as I looked around. There was a chest with a lock on it, a cot, and a desk. Sitting behind it was a Roman almost as big as my father, with a long black beard and a scarred face. His enormous hands were laced together as he scared at me with dark blue eyes. _

_"Centurion," Wintergreen bowed, and turned to leave. Alvin held up a hand, and said, "Hold on a moment, I think I would rather like you to stick around." This was met with another bow, and the black and red masked soldier strode to stand in a corner behind me. _

_I grimaced and shook my head. "Um, I'm-I'm the son of a chief," I stuttered, nervousness and a pounding head making it hard to make full sentences. The words sounded slurred, and the air seemed to swim around me. "He'll reward you handsomely if you take me and my friends back."_

_I know it was a long shot, but I heard somewhere that Romans were greedy and lazy. Maybe enough gold and recorders would be enough to make him take me home. Unfortunately, he shook his head. "I know that."_

_I swallowed and glanced at the man behind me. His blue eyes were cold as metal and about as unfeeling. It made me feel like when he looked at me, all he was was a moving target. I shuddered and looked at the Centurion. _

_"So why am I here?"_

_The Centurion grinned. "Ah, you ask all the right questions," he got up and walked around his desk, till he was right in front of me. "I know that there was a ship carrying a number of viking heirs on it, and I know that it got destroyed in a storm. I have only one question. Answer it, and I'll make sure you don't spend another day on the island."_

_He leaned in close, and I grimaced at the stench of his breath. "Besides you and the Meathead, are there any other survivors?" _

_I swallowed. There was Camicazi. If I told him the little blond she-demon was on the island, then I could go home. But... Something about this guy was off, and I didn't like it one bit. I just didn't feel right about him. He seemed...Treacherous. _

_I looked up at him and stared him straight in his dark grey eyes. "No," I shook my head. "No, no there aren't." But the big guy didn't seem to buy it. He grabbed me by the shoulder and began to drag me outside, where a post and chains were set up. _

_Wintergreen followed, and I looked at him. "Wha-what are you doing?" Fear was coating my words, and I was trying not to shake. I swallowed as the cuffs clicked shut on my wrists as my arms were restrained behind me. The Centurion backed away a bit and nodded at the solider. _

_"Your not a very good liar, son," he said. "There's another one out here, I can see it in your eyes." Wintergreen reached behind him, and slowly drew his sword. The scraping of the metal as it was released into the air rang in my ears as he approached. _

_"I gave you a chance to help yourself," the Centurion shook his head in fake regret. "But you had to go and ruin it for yourself. Wintergreen will just have to give you a little... Incentive to tell the truth."_

_My attempts at not trembling fell apart as the soldier began to walk forwards, his boots crunching in the sand. _

* * *

><p><strong><em><span>Present Day<span>_**

The Night Fury swung his paw and knocked aside my sword, jarring my arm a bit. I hissed in pain as it landed behind me, kicking up chunks of dirt as it skidded to a halt behind me. I narrowed my eyes and growled, the Night Fury doing the same.

I met his eyes. They were glowing with hard determination like mine, and the similarities didn't end there. They were intense acid green, webbed with lighter shades, with the pupils rimmed with dark brown.

Green eyed dragon versus green eyed archer. The final battle between us. My gaze darted out to the side, looking at my bow lying in the ground. It followed my eyes, and we both made our own lunges for the weapon.

Fortunately, I got there first, sliding as the dragon's well-muscled paw slammed into the ground were it had been, making a small crater. As fast as I could, I grabbed an arrow, not bothering to differentiate between the three, and fired it.

The dragon flapped his powerful wings, and the arrow flew right under him, and he landed with a heavy thud. The powerful tail swung at me, barely giving me any time to duck underneath it.

The dragon started using it's wings to attack me, folding them tightly shut to protect the membrane, and thrusting the hard top joints at me in rapid succestion. The dragon was fast, dispite its size, and I was pretty sure it would cave my chest if those wings made contact.

I jumped backwards as he reared back suddenly and slammed his front paws at me. The ground under him shattered, and the thing gave me no time to catch my breath as it swung its wing at me, fully extend, looking like it was trying to shatter my neck.

I threw myself on the ground, and pulled out my remaining blade, and cut a deep slash into the Night Fury's onyx hide. It howled in pain in anger, and resumed keeping up the offensive.

This was not what I was expecting. I had anticipated a snarling animal, wild, but predictable, a easy kill, just sink an arrow in its chest while it was going crazy and the whole deal would be done. Instead, I was faced with something that was every bit as controlled and percise as I was.

He attempted to sweep my legs out from under me, but I jumped. He took the moment of stillness this caused and rammed me. I went splat like the dragons did when hit with a catapault ball.

He roared and continued flying, carrying me a ways as my vision swam from the force of the blow. My last meal threatened to come back, but I kept it down. I had dropped my sword when the dragon had hit me, but my left hand had my bow in a vice.

And then there was the arrow in his back. I smiled sickly and grabbed it, yaking the projectile out roughly. The Night Fury roared in pain, the sudden action making him veer off course. He hit a tree with his side, breaking it at the base. The falling foliage hit the dragon as it decended, and it fell, the force of its flight carrying him even further.

He hit the ground roughly, and dirt and grass flew everywhere as he dug a trench with his body. A slight ledge sent him tumbling, and his thick skull went thunk on the stone ground of the area.

I rolled away from him, groaning. My entire body felt like one giant collection of bruises, and I might have cracked a rib. My fave had a few scratches on it, and for a few seconds, there were three Night Furies instead of one, though a quick shake of my head quickly remedied that.

The dragon wasn't in great condition either. Patches of scales on his body were damaged or missing, and the arrow and sword wounds were bleeding steadily. Hid chest rose and fell in tandem with mine as we tried to recover from that crash landing.

I pushed myself up, kind of lightheaded, and glanced around for my missing bow. I had lost it in the crash, but it had to be around here somewhere. The. Night Fury groaned and rolled onto his belly, and I shook the pain off- yeah, life and death situations can make you shake to little thing.

I got up, stumbling a bit, and fumbled around the greenery. The dragon finally made it back onto his paws, sneezing a bit and shaking his head as his eyes refocused on me. I dove into the bushed, and almost immediately pain flooded into my bruised limbs.

I didn't wince, though. Spared myself the time and I scrambled around for the weapon. Sure enough, my hands found the well worn leather I had trapped around the handle, as well as the runes I made along the limbs.

I picked it up and felt into my quiver. Damn-only about three or four arrows left. I had used the rest, or they had fallen out during my wild ride. I drew one and looked at it-an exploding arrow.

I knelt and scrambled in my pouch for my lighter stone as the Night Fury slowly regained his senses. My fingers closed around the stone and I quickly lit the fuse on the arrow. There was a roar, and I looked up to see a mass of black scales and green eyes descending on me.

I flinched and rolled backwards, and looked at the fuse. No time to shoot it, so I tossed the arrow in the dragon's direction!

BOOM! The explosion sent the Night Fury flying to the side. He slammed into a few trees, knocking them over and he slumped on the ground, moaning in pain. His pupils were half dilated, one bigger than the other, and it seemed like he was in too much pain to get back up.

I only had a little energy left in me, too, and I winced as I got back onto my feet. Every muscle in my body ached-this had been a hard fight. I grasped one of my remaining arrows and pulled it back against the string of the bow.

The tip was aimed right into its eye as the dragon tried and failed to regain his senses. I took a deep breath and prepared to fire. This was it-the end of our game. The end of our battle, the end of the Night Fury. I looked right into its acidic green eye and saw-

I did a double take. The Night Fury was showing fear? My brow furrowed and I looked again. He actually was back in his right state of mind, but as if it knew that if I were to release my fingers on the weapon, the arrow would be too fast for him to avoid getting hit, and that if he didn't die with that, then he would be too wounded to give it any chance of survival.

I swallowed, and tried to look away from his eyes, but they kept pulling me back. It wasn't like other kills. They had always been 'them or me,' and I didn't really want it to be me, or they had been a threat to great to live. But right now, I had beaten him. I won. I had him down, and he was at my mercy. And he wasn't like any other dragon, and I'm not just talking about the breed or the color of its eyes.

We _knew_ each other. For _five years_, we had battled, but there had been times- times when I was glad for his company, something to remind me of home. As bitter and brutal as the reminder was, the nightly dragon attack was like home.

I shook my head. He-_it_ was a dragon. my enemy. A viking's natural enemy. Moreover, it would make them not see me as weak, it was my last connection to Helgrind, it was the only thing keeping me on Berk, it would win me acceptance in the village-

It would win me acceptance in the village. The point hit me like a lightning strike. After five years, after saying I didn't care anymore, that I hated them, that nothing on Berk mattered to me anymore, I was still hung up on _getting their damn acceptance._

And I was done. It didn't matter that we were enemies for five years. We were just doing what both of us had been raised to do, as dragon and viking. Vikings killed dragons. And I am_ not _a viking.

I lowered my bow, and the Night Fury cooed in surprise, looking at me with huge pupils. "Go," I snarled. "Leave. Now." I thrust my head in a way that indicated that I wanted him to leave. It hastily got to its paws and looked at me, glancing in the direction I indicated, before-

**"ROAR!"** My eardrums were assaulted by the sudden bellow from the dragon's lungs. It pounced before I could defend myself, using its paw to knock the bow out of my hand. It flung into the bushes and I found myself pinned under its paw.

I looked up at it, fear coursing through me. I my hands scrambled for something, anything to use for a weapon, but there was only grass. I felt like I was back at that post with Wintergreen, a monster about to make me feel more pain than I thought was possible.

Despite the last wishes of Yao Fei... I had failed to survive. To use my time to make the world better. There was no way out this time, and there was no way to win. I was going to die... I was going to die...

I couldn't do anything to stop it. For a minuet, I struggled, fear gripping me. But I remembered how others had died before me. They had went with dignity, they saw that it was their time, and accepted it.

If I was so much better than I was, then shouldn't I show it? Die with dignity.

It was my time to go to Valhalla...And I accepted it.**[3] **Because really, what way out was there? No weapons, no plan, no way to negotiate against the dragon I was pinned under that I had fought for years and years. I was going to die, and there was no clever way out of it this time.

But I was not going to go dishonorably. No kicking and screaming. It's childish, in dignified, and beneath me. I closed my eyes and made myself relax as much as possible. This was fine, I told myself. I wasn't leaving a lot behind anyway. I began to mutter under my breath, my last words in Chinese, taught by an old friend. _"__Duìbùqǐ__ Yáo Fēi. Wǒ shībàile nǐ zuìhòu de qǐngqiú. Yè Shā, nǐ yǐjīng yíngle. Wǒ tóuxiáng__."_**[4]**

The dragon tilted his head, almost as if he understood my words. Then, He snarled again, and reared back, spreading his wings to make himself look bigger. I didn't resist. It was pointless, and I would not be missed.

I prepared for the end, and braced myself-

**"RORREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"**

Hot air was blasted in my face, and my ear drums decimated. It was an assault of blistering air and a bellowing noise, all slamming into my face with the force of an angry Gronckle, not made any better by the fact that his breath really, really stank.

But it was not death. And before I knew it, it was over. It was gone. The Night Fury bounded away from me, presumably too worn out to fly, and began bounding through the trees. I breathed heavily, adrenaline still coursing through me, and it was a while before I could get back up.

* * *

><p>"Astrid? Astrid!" I shook her awake. I had gathered my missing arrows, swords and bow, then remembered that I had not entered the forest alone.<p>

It was about half an hour past that, and the blond Shield Maiden was nowhere to be found. I wasn't exactly sure why I was concerned for her well being, she never was when I was a kid, but... Well, I'm an idiot, aren't I? I grimaced and pulled down the mask from my face and snarled.

"ASTRID?!"

"WHAT?!" Came the reply. It was annoyed, angered, and confused all at the same time. I began running towards the source and found her leaning against a tree. Her hair was clumped with red where the skin had been split when she was hit, and she was cradling her skull gingerly. Her sea blue eyes were pained and annoyed at the same the, her hair disheveled and messy, bangs hanging in front of her face.

I awkwardly reached to help her, but she shot me the kind if glare that only a very angry female can give- the kind that sends a clear message to back off or else. I held my hands up in front of me and took a few steps back, then pulled down my hood.

"I, uh," I said awkwardly. "The Night Fury. He got away. And I came to check on you, see if you were alright." I took a deep breath and sighed. "I mean, it's not right to leave someone behind, especially if they could be seriously hurt, you know?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

The Sheild Maiden opened her mouth to say something else, but suddenly the horn of Berk sounded, the deep baritone bellow rolling across the island from the village. It wasn't the attack horn, it was the one to let us know when ships were approaching.

We glanced at each other. Ashe was clearly hurt, and in no shaper to run... In any case, neither was I. But my head was less hurt than hurst and when she tried to step away from the tree, she stumbled... Right into me.

She grunted, but didn't move away as I put my arm under here and helped her along. She probably would have gone all psychotic on me if I tried to carry her bridal style, and while I wasn't afraid of that, it would be best for all parties if it was avoided.

Once we made it back to the village, I looked out towards the sea. Six ships were quickly approaching our docks, each bearing a different symbol, but I recognized them all.

Meathead, Gloryguts, Lokutoungs, Bog Burglars, Berserkers, and Uglithugs.

The other tribes of the Seven Lost Heirs were here. And what would they think when only one of the seven children they lost came back? What would they think I'd done?

When it came to misunderstandings for Vikings, anything was possible.

**[1]His new name translates as 'Black Arrow', a small tribute to how he is partially based off of Green Arrow. **

**[2]The consume is from Arrow. It's not Oliver's, it's Malcolm's. If you don't watch Arrow and still can't visualize it, look up 'arrow dark archer costume' and you'll see it.**

**[3] In case it is not clear, this is a reference to one of my favorite book series, the Inheritance Cycle. It also showcases how mature Hiccup is. He knew he was beaten and didn't fight needlessly against it. He accepted that it might have been his time to go. **

**[4] The translation of that is 'I am sorry Yao Fei. I failed to honor your last request. Night Fury, you've won. I surrender. **

**Thank you for reading, and have a cool whatever-point-in-time-you-read-this. **

**-RNC **


	5. Black and White And Some More Black

_"ARRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHH!"_

_I screamed as a Wintergreen dragged his knife through my flesh. He had been at this for an hour, and my body was pitted with cuts and slashes. It hurt... It hurt so much. Black spots danced in my vision as my nerves were set alight with agony. I heard the sickening squelch as the blade left my body, and Wintergreen sighed._

_He seemed to be giving me a breather, and I hung from the pole by my bonds, breathing heavily. I had never felt so helpless... Hopeless... So prone to death. I was so afraid, but I couldn't... I wouldn't betray Camicazi. _

_But this opened my eyes to one thing. I had stood in front of a Monstrous Nightmare's jaws, but I hadn't been this scared. I had been hit by a Gronckle's tail and I hadn't felt this scared. _

_I had always had other Vikings around, and I always knew they would save my butt from the fire and the claws. But here... There was only Slade and Thuggory, both of whom were tied up and surrounded by enemies, and only one of whom felt any comradely obligation to me. The Bog-Burglar was still missing, and probably wouldn't come to save me, and this Yao Fei person... I couldn't put a lot of faith in a man who I had never even seen. _

_I was alone, and I was helpless. I hated this feeling more than I hated anything, even the alleged dragon that killed my mother. I hated it more than the sense of shame I got when Dad yelled at me. _

_I never wanted to feel this again. "Are you ready to talk, kid," came the growling voice of Wintergreen that I had come to hate in such a short time. I looked at him and something welled in my mouth. Something warm and metallic tasting. I spit it out, and suddenly Wintergreen's oh-so-nice uniform and mask were speckled with red. _

_ He wiped the mask and growled. "So you still need some convincing, eh?" He asked, lifting the scarlet-coated knife into my line of vision. I began trembling, shaking as the cold blade got closer. _

_But I swore. I would live through this. I would survive, and I would never, ever be helpless ever again._

* * *

><p>I watched as the boats from the other tribes sailed towards Berk's docks with a cold expression. How would they take my presence here, without the other Heirs? I didn't know, but I felt a stab in my chest when I saw the Bog-Burglar ship. That particular emblem was connected to certain emotions.<p>

I glanced at Astrid. She sat on a rock behind me, rubbing the open cut on her head tenderly, wincing when she thought I wasn't looking. I frowned absently. While I was not sorry one bit for our fight on Helgrind, or my dismissal of her, I had to admit she had been fairly open to me since I'd been back. Maybe...

No, I snapped to myself. I trusted her when we were little, but once it became clear I would never be able to bust through walls with brute force, she abandoned me. Left me alone with only Gobber on my side, and that being a poor compensation for the partnership little Astrid and I had shared. I wasn't going to forgive and forget anything. She was probably the first to forget me!

She saw me looking, and her face turned red. What was with that, it certainly, wasn't hot out here. "What?" She snapped, and I rolled my eyes. "Just... Thinking about things, that's all," I dismissed.

She shook her head, groaning a bit. "Come on," she said. When she got up, she swayed a bit on her feet, and she put her fingerst to the scarlet-leaking split skin on her forehead, barely holding back a hiss of pain.

"Concussion?" I asked flatly.

"Most likely," she nodded, and grit her teeth. I sighed and offered a hand for to help, but she brushed it aside. "Stow it, Hiccup. I do not need you." She said heatedly, but I shrugged. "Ok, suit yourself. I'd head up to Gothi's though."

"I know that," she growled, and I looked back down over the cliffs, a wave of dread filling my insides. I was a good fighter, that was an indisputable fact. But taking on six ticked off tribes, especially when the reason they were angry was that I might have something to do with their most competent heirs, was not something I could do.

I pulled up my hood and mask, hoping to once again keep my identity a secret. Don't get me wrong, I was not being a coward, I just didn't want to fight them. I couldn't beat them, but that didn't mean I couldn't get out of here alive. It would be difficult, bloody, and leave me licking my wounds for a while, but I would be alive.

But I didn't want to. I didn't want to fight and kill Vikings for my own survival when they had perfectly viable reasons for trying to kill or capture me. I would do it, yes, but it's a shameful practice that would leave more and more of my soul slick with unneeded blood.

I made my way back towards the village of Berk, nervousness gripping me. But it was only when I got to the cliff overlooking the docks that my gut finally plunged into dread. Because getting off the Bog-Burglar ship was a warrior far apart from the others. She was Chinese, like Yao Fei, but unlike her former traveling companion, this woman was not of a kind heart. Her too-early-white hair had been cut to hang at her jawline. Despite her snowy locks, her face, though it was old and mature, was not the age that should constitute that hair color. She was dressed in armor, like the other Bog-Burglars, but she had a pair of claw-shaped knives strapped to her left side.

Her name was Chien Na Wei, but I knew her by a different name. I knew her as her alias, and her name as a warrior. Because she had been on Helgrind, once upon a time. We had history, so I knew her by the name she preferred, that she only told to a select few.

I knew her as China White**[1]**. And we were bitter enemies.

* * *

><p><span><em><strong>Arrow's Trust<strong>_

_**Chapter 4:**_

**_Black and White... And Some More Black _**

* * *

><p>I swallowed as I saw her snowy locks from the vantage point.<p>

"Hiccup," I heard a voice say behind me, and I jumped, just barely restraining myself from throwing a blow at the source that would have taken their head clean off. The muscles in my arm tensed I made them stop mid motion.

Looming behind me was Stoick, his face disapproving. I growled, and narrowed my eyes. "My name is Hēi Jiàn," I snarled into his disapproving (big surprise there) expression. "Black Arrow. And those are the names you and everyone else in this village are allowed to call me."

His eyes widened a bit, and I smirked inwardly. I had startled Stoick the Vast. I guess the big man wasn't used to getting orders, only taking them. "You... How dare you give your father orders?" He said anger on the borders of his flabbergasted tone.

"I'm sorry?" I said mockingly. "Father is it? Not 'Chief'? Because I have a really hard time seeing you as the first one, and your doing such a fantastic job of the second. Berk has never been better," I bit at him sarcastically, casting my eyes towards the rotting fields and barnacle-ridden fishing boats at the shore.

"Hicc-Hēi Jiàn," he corrected himself. "I wanted to say-"

"Stow it," I said. "It's a bit too late for 'I'm sorry's. I spent every day on that island dreaming of my return. That you would see the warrior I became," I paused. It felt like something inside me was breaking, a barrier that prevented anything inside me from getting out-thoughts, intentions, feelings. It felt like it was crumbling to pieces... That something of the old me was getting out. "That I might finally be..." I stopped myself.

Just like that, the barrier snapped shut again, sealing myself back up. If felt weaker than before, but I still kept it. If I had started spilling my guts, soon all my sins would be on the floor before I could stop myself.

"Just call me by my name, and we won't have problems. Act like we're actually a family, that we owe each other anything, that's where the problems will begin. It's the line I the sand. Don't cross it," with that, I got up.

I turned from the Viking Chief with a stony expression under my mask and face. "Now come on, Stoick," I said with complete calmness and an even voice. Like I said, if he acknowledged who and what I had become, I wouldn't have a problem with him. "Let's go greet our guests."

* * *

><p><strong>[2]<strong>_I was barely aware of myself when I was dragged back to the post next to Slade and Thuggory. I was covered in my own blood, and I felt very, very cold and dreary. They had at least the decency to bandage me up, they didn't want their little prisoner to bleed out. That would be too easy. _

_"Kid?" Slade whispered to me. "Kid? You alright? Kid?!"_

_"That... Sucked. Badly," I groaned, lolling my head back and blinking tiredly. I saw the older fighter out of the corner of my eye, and saw the sympathetic look on his face. Across from us, the masked Roman leaned on his _Pilum_, the expression on his face unable to be read by just eyes alone this time. _

_I scoffed at him. "You gonna just keep looking at me like that? Some Cruel Guard you are. You don't even hit us when we're out of line. You sure you have the right part here?" _

_This time his emotions were made obvious by the eye roll and the extremely audible sigh that came out of the bottom of his mask. _

_I licked my bloody and dry lips. They were so chapped skin was starting to peel off of them, and the arid sun above did nothing to help. This wasn't like the cool air of Berk, this island had an abusively searing atmosphere, at least in comparison to my home's chilly climate. _

_Oh, Gods, I thought. This was most likely the end here. I would never see my father again, never sharpen Astrid's axe, begrudgingly accept what ever deal the twins made with me to not blow their cover, or listen to Snotlout's boasting ever again... Ok, I'm not so regretful about that last one, but I had some fond memories in the other categories. They're from a long time back, but still. _

_I was going to die here. And I pondered that fact in my head all day, terror filling me like hot water in a bow, spilling over and scalding everything outside its borders. It didn't stop. I didn't find any acceptance, or peace with it. I didn't want to die, I didn't. I never did. I wanted to live. I never wanted to be this helpless again! _

_It was to the point where I was ready to give up the secret that Cami made it here too. Why had I kept it so long in the first place? The little Bog-Witch certainly hadn't done a single thing to win my loyalty. Was it because she resembled Astrid? Maybe, but that wasn't enough to get me to die for her. _

_Day soon turned to night, the heated air calling down to a temperature more familiar to me. The masked guard was facing away from us, his head nodding as if falling asleep. I looked at my fellow prisoners. My mind was clearer now, the pain had faded to only a burning but insignificant stinging sensation. _

_What? You didn't thing I was a _compleat_ soft-skinned weakling, did you? You don't survive to fifteen while growing up with fire-breathing lizards constantly trying to take your stuff without gaining at least some degree of tenacity._

_But but my feelings changed as small, light steps from tiny feet sounded behind me, and a curtain of yellow hair appeared from over my shoulder. I turned a bit to see the grinning face of Camaczi. _

_"Looks like you've got yourself in some trouble," she whispered so softly she was practically mouthing the words. Figures, I heard she was a master if infiltration. "Typical, for a boy of course."_

* * *

><p>I stood at the docks as the Lokitongue tribe got off the docks. They were all tall, lanky warriors like Heather had been, but they all had a snaky quality to them that made them seem dangerous, like vipers in human form.<p>

The Gloryguts tribe wasn't as creepy. They were all tall and muscular. They seemed to e a tribe of pretty boys, but the enmities they concourse could tell you differently. They would tell you while they might be a band if self-absorbed, attention seeking, boastful preeners, they had more than enough power to back up their threats and were not to be taken lightly.

The Berserkers...Enough said. A lot of warriors with zero brainpower, all of it concentrated into pure, I distiller crazy. Except their leader, Oswald. The big guy might have seemed intimidating, with his thick stature, scarred face and humongous axe, but the guy was a big softie. They didn't call him 'The Agreeable' for nothing.

Uglithugs... Ugly, thug like, and Vikings. Not much else can be said about them. Not all that different from Berkians, actually. You could have mistaken one society for another. Then there was the Meatheads. The people Thuggory was raised by. They were a rare breed of Viking that lived by a very strict code of honor beyond the Nine Noble Virtues**[3]**. They were brutal, vicious warriors to be sure, but they had a clear line drawn, and to cross it was the biggest dishonor to them. They were good people, to be sure.

And Bog-Burglars. Female warriors, the lot of them. They dominated the male sex of their tribe, which I was happy to stay out of. Most of them were built like men with different chests, except from their smaller, more feminine member. There was an icy fist gripping my guy from seeing China White among them.

Spthe white-haired warrior was eyeing me from the crowd. I didn't belive for a moment she didn't recognize me. She was much too smart to be fooled my the uniform I wore. Meanwhile, Stoick greeted the other chieftains. Then something went wrong. Seeing the chiefs, the last people I had seen before going below deck of the _Haddock's Tale_, a deep sense of abandonment filled me. Then it was quickly replaced by anger. Lots and lots of anger.

"Stoick," UG the Uglithug said. He was a big man, big bellied, with stag horns on his helmet and a silver bears. His face had a long, ragged scar running diagonally across it. "Good to see you again."

Bertha was next, slamming the Berk Chief in the shoulder with one large hand. "Yes," she agreed, before her face hardened. "Is there any news of the lost heirs?"

Before she could answer, Oswald caught sight of me. "Who is that?" He asked, lumbering up to me. China White was about to say something, but I silenced her with a glare. The message I was trying to send her was clear. We would settle our vendetta in private.

"That is," Stoick began, but I cut across his sentence with one of my own. "I'm just a warrior who came back recently," I rasped. I glared at assembled authorities from under my hood. Great, I had just put myself in the spotlight. Every instinct I had was screaming to draw my bow and take the lot of them out with explosive arrows, but I resisted.

"And you want to know who I am?" I asked. The barrier was almost breaking agin, but I kept it in check. "What I want to know is why you spend your time with petty visits to a dying tribe and have this big show of force, the six armies that could wipe each other out, all this mutually assured destruction," Bertha and Maestro, chief of the Gloryguts, snorted at that, but they had hesitant expressions on their faces.

"What I want to know is why you ever stopped looking for them?" I growled. "Do you think they're gonna come back on their own! Because I can guarantee you, that's not gonna happen."

I took a deep breath. "Most of you are never going to see your children again, not in this life. So I'd stop asking now... You stopped looking already, so you might as well give up hope."

I turned away from the chieftains clutching my fists in barely contained anger. There was a small voice in my head telling me it wasn't their fault, that five years was a bit long to hold on to hope, but the sense of abandonment washed it out, like a wooden cottage in a tidal wave.

I wanted so badly to let it out, to give them the hell they left me in for five years and the dull agony my father had given me for ten more. I wanted them to suffer, I wanted to make them sorry, I wanted them on their knees and _begging_ for forgiveness, I wanted to kill-

Wait, what? No, no, that was too far. Way to far. "How dare you-" UG started, but I growled like a feral animal and pushed past him. Ok, that's when I knew something was definitely wrong with me.

"If you'll excuse me, chiefs, cheiftess," I nodded at them. "I must be going back to my home now. I am... Recovering from a fight with a dragon I found in the woods."

"Nonsense," Stoick scoffed, and I swear, it took every ounce of self control I had not to impale him on one of my swords. My fists shook a bit as I struggled to remain calm, but under the gaze of the six authorities, I felt small and weak again... Helpless like I was at the posts, with Wintergreen torturing me. "You don't have a mark on you."

"Not all wounds show, Stoick," I snapped, before quickening my pace. I could hear the chiefs murmuring behind me as I began to leave as quickly as I could. I passed the snow-haired Bog-Burglar on my way out.

We caught each other's eyes. Her deep brown met my green, and we gave each other a silent message. Our private war wasn't over... But we would keep it private.

"China," I nodded at my rival as I passed her.

"Arrow," she said back politely. I could see the hostility hidden just under her calm mask, though. I began to climb the ramps back up to the village, my fists still shaking in anger a bit. I needed to get alway from these people now, or else I would end up doing something I'd regret.

As soon as I got up the cliff, I stomped back into my house. Gobber tried to stop me, wanted to talk to me, but I waved him off. As happy as I would be to catch up with the man I regarded as a second father, I needed to cook of first. I made it back to the old, rotting house and slammed the door. I stalked over to the table where my supplies was piled, and yanked off my mask and hood. I took off my weapons and laid them neatly on the table, before I walked over to the brasier.

"What did that island do to me?" I mumbled to myself, looking at the dead coals. I didn't used to be this angry, this fortified, did I? I didn't know, and I sighed, shaking my head. Did I even like what I'd become? This warrior who could easily shoot a man in the neck if he deemed it necessary. Was I even any better than China White?

I took a deep breath and wiped my face with my gloved hands. I was angry, yes, but I had been taught to control that anger, turn it into something useful. Fuel for the fire inside me, but it was now becoming raw power again. "I think I need to get out of here," I mumbled to myself, collapsing in the chair behind me.

Then I looked at something on my sleep, and plucked it off. The blood-crusted, partially broken scale of the Night Fury hung off my sleeve. It must have caught on my clothes turning the fight.

I rolled the piece of natural armor between my thumb and index finger a few times. I pondered a few things in my head. The eyes of that dragon for one. I had killed many breeds. Monstrous Nightmares, Gronckles, Nadders, Zipplebacks, Sand Wraiths, Stormcutters, a few Rumblehorns and even a Skrill, to name a small percent of them. But their eyes had never seemed so... Afraid, so... So human. The Night Fury was truly something special.

And another thing, I thought as I bright the scale closer to my eye. If there was one thing about dragons Slade had taught me, it was that they always to for the kill. But this creture...it had spared my life, like it had an actual conscience as well.

And during our battle... I had called it a 'he'. I shook my head and cast the scale onto the wood rimming the brasier, rubbing my temples. Between Astrid being somewhat friendly, shutting out Stoick, a China White, and this damn Night Fury, there was too much on my plate right now.

I sighed and reclined in my chair, but froze as I heard a voice behind me._ "Wǒ méi xiǎngdào huì zài zhèlǐ jiàn dào nǐ."_ I translated it in my head: "I did not expect to see you here." Only one other person on the island could speak Chinese.

Chein Na Wei.

Not a big surprise that she knew I was here. She had probably been tracking me the moment I left the docks in anger. She probably saw me about to break down. But I wasn't scared of her, not even when my bow and swords were over ten feet away, and she was skilled at throwing those knives of hers.

I swallowed thickly as memories flooded into my skull. _"Tóng." _Same.

"So," I said in Norse once more. "The Bog-Burglars, eh? You didn't strike me as their type."

"It was the only option," Chien Na Wei answered. "The rest of the savages in this backwater archipelago were all sexist pigs who deserved my knife in places that would make even the toughest male cry in agony."

I shrugged, as if I had not argument against that statement. It was true, a lot of tribes could be sexist pigs (cough, Gloryguts, cough). And Chein would take that worse than any female, given that she grew up in a little-known part of her homeland that was much like a parallel to the Bog-Burglars. "But still. Why have the tribes come here? Why now?"

White chuckled. "Arrow, you've been gone a log while, and relations between the tribes have changed a lot. They are on the brink of breaking their pact with each other. They're here to see if there is any chance of salvaging what's left of the alliance."

I shook my head. "Any chance of their alliance sunk with the _Haddock's Tale_. Without any inter-tribe bonds, it's all just words without basis, and they're Vikings. Betrayal is an occupational hazard for them."

"For them? But your one of them," she said, only lightly surprised.

"I used to be... And I probably never was," I said softly. "Chein, I know we have... A complicated history. But the people here don't need to know that. They don't need to know what happened on the island. Are you sure your position in your new tribe is secure enough to survive _everything_ I know about you," I said with narrowed eyes.

Her lips thinned into a tight line. "No," she responded softly. "But don't get me wrong. We _will_ settle this. And when the day comes, it won't be pretty."

I swallowed. "I know. Now leave. One of us murdering the others won't be a good thing for the alliances. I assume you don't want war anymore than I do."

"I'm Chinese," she said dryly. "A war between you Vikings wouldn't matter much to my people. But I live here now, so no, I really don't want to be caught in the middle of you hairy hooligans trying to gut each other."

I leaned back in my chair, closing my eyes and let out a tired puff of air through my nose. What the Hel was I going to do? When I opened my eyes again, China White was gone.

* * *

><p>I was hiking through the woods the next morning, my hood and mask on. It was nearing winter, so the air was cool and chilly. I would be needing this coat soon enough, and I was grateful I had it.<p>

I couldn't stop thinking about how... Angry I was last night. How badly I wanted to hurt them. Had I become that on Helgrind? As bad as White? As the dragons? That I would murder anyone who wronged me?

I refused to believe that.

I remembered something Astrid did. She used to hurl her axe into trees to take out her anger. I smirked as I remembered that every time a Snotlout hit on the Shield Maiden, ten treed died.

I drew one of my swords, and was about to ram it into the tree, see if there really was something to that whole violent self-therapy she practiced, when I heard a low growl behind me. I whirled, but there was nothing there.

I clutched the hilt of my sword. Was it possible the Night Fury was still around? Na, that thing was an animal, it was probably back at the dragons' nest, licking its wounds.

I kept the sword out anyway, but kept walking.

I hadn't bothered to see how the rest of the meeting of the chieftains had turned out. I didn't want to know what that bunch of authoritative blowhards wanted. It was something I would not miss when I left this place for good. I just... Needed to figure out how.

I lacked the proper knowledge on traveling on my own on a boat, so I would need to leave with one of the other tribes, then go from there...

I was cut off from my musings as there was a heavy thump in front of my. I snapped to attention to find my area of vision filled with black scales and green eyes.

The Night Fury. Still bleeding slightly and covered in battle scars... Battle scars I had given him. I raised my sword and pointed it at the creature's face, and it arched its back and growled at me.

After a moment of hesitation, I lowered my sword. The dragon's nature had proved benign before. Maybe it would agin. My hypothesis was proven correct when The hostile demeanor was immediately dropped when the blade was lowered.

It's pupils dilated slightly, and it's wings lowered from their defensive position, if only slightly. The thing seemed to still be wary, but just as interested in me as I was in it... Him.

"Can you understand me?" I asked, and he flicked an ear in response. Not knowing if that was a yes or a reaction to me making noise, I licked my lips, the tip of my sword raising slightly. He noticed the action, and growled, immediately regaining his defensive stance and snarling like an animal.

I swallowed and looked it in its bright green eyes. It stared back at me, and we held each other's gazed for a moment, like we had when we had each other at death's row. He tilted his head slightly, making a curious rumbling sound, and fluttering his wings.

Then, suddenly, a rustling in the bushes caught our attention. We both looked at the source, but after only a moment, the Night Fury took off, bounding into the trees like his life depended on it.

"Hiccup," a feminine voice called, and I sighed. Still with that stupid name, I had told her last night, I didn't want to be called that anymore.

"What is it, Astrid," I sighed and she stopped in front of me. "Your dad sent-" she halted as I glared at her, before rolling her eyes and scoffing. "Fine, _Stoick_ sent me to retrieve you. He told the other cheiftans who you were last night, you know."

I groaned, then sighed. Did I really think he wouldn't because I gave him a dirty look? "Well isn't that just fantastic," I said sarcastically. She smirked at me, and crossed her arms, before dropping the look.

"Are you alright? You seemed a little... Off, when the other tribes got here."

"Well," I said. "I'm the only survivor of the Seven Lost Heirs. Don't you think they would try to make something out of it, make me responsible somehow?"

"That's completely ridiculous," she dismissed.

"And what's blaming a kid for burning down the village when he really just hid being a torch from a Nightmare?" I questioned. She winced, and looked a little guilty. Good, she should.

I slid the sword in my hand back into its sheath and turned to leave, but she said, "You seemed to recognize that white haired woman who came with the Burglars. Who is she?"

I hated, considering my response. I had asked China last night if her position in her tribe was stable enough to survive everything I knew about her, but what about the reverse? I was already the village nuisance and now possible threat, but if they knew what I was...

"She was... On the island," I said carefully. "One of the other castaways with me. She was on a Chinese traveling boat that got caught in a storm a few months before the _Tale_. I thought she was dead." Technically it wasn't a lie... Just not the whole truth.

"There were others with you?" She questioned, and I closed my eyes, a picture of Wintergreen and the Romans flashing behind my eyelids.

"Yeah. Not all of them good. But I was the last guy standing. That mask was from another castaway... Not this one, the black and red one."

"The one you attacked me in?" She asked, and I gave her a look. She held her hands in a placating way and said "Forgiven, by the way." I nodded, and she just rubbed the part of her thigh I had punctured in a way that suggested that there was some hard feelings on that subject, but points to her for willing to pretend there wasn't. "But what about the other heirs?"

"Tantrum and Hotshot died almost immediately," I answered. "They went down with the boat... And the others..." I swallowed. The barrier again. It was cracking, but I closed it back up. I couldn't trust her not to abandon me again. I couldn't trust anyone in Berk. "Need to know information. And you don't need to know." I said coldly.

"Seriously?" She said, tilting her head, and I nodded, looking at the ground where the Night Fury had been. I bit my lip and sighed. "So, you said the Cheif wants to see me?"

"All of them do. Plus Gobber. He didn't appreciate you blowing him off last night, or snatching a shield from him during the raid."

I rolled my eyes at that last one. "That meathead just likes to complain," I said with a bit of familial affection. Of all the people on Berk, the old smith was perhaps the one I didn't feel the need for a full guard.

"You know, Hiccup," she said. "You were missed."

"Other than Gobber? Who?" I snorted. Anyone here? Miss me? What, was it Ragnorok soon? Did Loki also swear to never again tell a lie? Did Thor take up pacifism and start picking Asgardian flowers? Did Odin and Laufey hug it out?

Her face turned a bit red, and she seemed to be struggling with the answer. She opened her mouth to say something, before seeming to consider it, then drawing back in thought. "See?" I said with a bit of bitterness. "Can't think of anyone." Then I shook my head. Don't let emotions get the better of you, I chided myself. I was not go a lash out in anger. I would keep in control.

"But don't worry about it. I'm over it. I got over not having enough attention when I was a kid, so there is no need for anyone, you, Stoick or anyone else, to apologize. I'm not that petty."

I swallowed and looked at the last place I had seen the Night Fury, and to my surprise, he was still there. Looking at me with wide green eyes, mostly hidden in the shade of a few trees and behind thick foliage. I blinked, before shaking my head. Didn't want Astrid seeing him. Whatever was going on between that black newt and I was going to stay that way.

Between us.

"Come on," I gestured back to the village. "I have some explaining to do." As we walked, I turned to her suddenly. "A bit of advice. Don't cross that white-haired woman. She may not look like much, but she could take down anyone here if she wanted to."

She met my eyes, and I jammed my hands in my pockets. "It's just some advice." And with that, I turned away. I needed to get this out of the way now. I began to walk towards the village, this time listening to Astrid's somewhat uneven steps behind me.

* * *

><p><em>Camicazi grinned mischievously at me, her little gap toothed smile the kind that sent chills through grown mens' spines. At the other posts, Thiggory and Slade were sound asleep, and the masked roman... <em>

_Was as nowhere to be found. Huh, could have sworn he was here a second ago? Where'd he go? That was weird. _

_Speaking of weird, a drastic change had come over the tiny Bog-Burglar's demenor since the last time I saw her. She had been pouting on the boat, and been a raging little beast on the shore, but now she was grinning like a child with her favorite toy. _

_I raised an eyebrow at her. What the heck was she doing here? I thought she was going it alone, that she didn't need us? Plus, I had just spent the better part of the day resisting torture for her, though why was still a bit of a question for me. But still, she just saw all that wasted. _

_"You didn't think I'd actually leave a fellow runt behind, did you?" She asked, and drew her cutlass-where she got a cutlass, I was probably better off not knowing. "Fellow runt?" I mouthed in disbelief and she nodded. "Yeah. I'm smaller than _you_, ain't I?"_

_I just nodded dumbly. My wounds still hurt like Hel herself, but they were momentarily forgotten by the sight of the teeny-tiny female viking having returned to save me. I always thought of her as a pygmy Astrid (though I was sure both girls would kick my ass if they heard me make that comparison), as cold and distant. Maybe she wasn't so Astrid-like after all. That grin certainly wasn't. It was concentrated wacko combined with a bit of daring, completed with a pinch of crazy. _

_She reached down to cut the ropes, a hand reached down and grabbed her wrist sharply. We both gasped in surprise and looked up. _

_Looming over us was a woman with snow-white hair. _

**[1] Ok, I'm taking China White from Arrow too. But she's not the same China as the book. I'm going to give her an actual story, and character instead of being a generic (in demeanor at least) mob boss. **

**[2]You guys get it by now. Normal words mean present day, italics mean five years ago. **

**[3]The Nine Noble Virtues were a code of honor that was in the Vikings' religion. **

**Thats all for now. Have an awesome whatever-point-in-time-you-you-read-this.**

**-RNC**


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